To Walk Away
by The Musical Jedi
Summary: Pre-TPM. A knight begins to question whether or not she deserves the title of Jedi Knight. Involves both original and canon characters. Prequel to An Anthem Deferred. FINE
1. Default Chapter

This is actually the first in a pair I wrote for boards.theforce.net. There may be a third at some point, but we'll have to see. I hope you enjoy. Also, this is still part of the project for me to learn HTML; please be patient with the edits and the mistakes and whatnot. :)   
  
Usual disclaimers apply: this isn't my world. It belongs to the Flannelled One, whom we thank for the backyard to borrow at our whim.   
  
**To Walk Away**   
_The Return_   
  
The cantina was filled with noise and music as night fell beyond its walls, shrouding Courscant in an ethereal light that radiated from the buildings all across its surface. The large, transparisteel faces of the buildings that made up the cityscape splashed the reds and oranges across the surface, painting it with festive colors that seemed to reflect the mood of the cantina. It was to be a late night, as it usual was for the regular customers, for the next morning was the end of the working week, a day when the people could rest up and enjoy themselves instead of earning wages.   
  
A young woman moved through the crowd of the cantina, her green eyes dancing from face to face as her full lips curved into a smile. She wore a tight-fitting, red top that swept from her hips up, revealing her navel and toned stomach, draping over her shoulders to form a train. A skirt was wrapped around her waist, made of layer upon layer of matching red fabric, although the multiple layers made it impossible to see through the otherwise translucent cloth.   
  
Her long, dark, almost black hair was pulled back into an intricate design of twists, keeping it from her face. The woman threaded her way through the crowd, her bare feet silent on the decorated tile of the floor. She was headed towards the bar, still carefully watching faces while appearing not to. The young woman ordered a drink, and as she waited for it to arrive, her eyes flickered with interest to a man across the cantina from her, sitting alone in a booth.   
  
He was an older man, gray peppering the goatee that defined his chin in the dim light of the cantina. His eyes were sharp, and he appeared to be watching the crowd carefully. His tunics were common to people of the middle working class, looking to be a man that was simply out enjoying the free night of the week.   
  
Abruptly, the man who was the focus of the young woman stood up, his face taking on a brooding look. He moved away from the table after produced a few credit chips and leaving them there. The woman watched his movement, her green eyes showing interest as he left the building. She waited for her drink, a small shot of some kind of liquor, then downed it upon arrival. After paying the bartender for it, she also made her way to the door, picking up a dark brown cloak that hung on a peg by the door.   
  
Darkness had fallen on the walkway as the young woman followed the older man, throwing her cloak over her shoulders and pulling up the ample hood to conceal her face. She pursued him stealthily, making no sound and attracting minimal notice as she walked along, trying to appear as though she were simply on her own way and not tailing someone.   
  
The man walked swiftly, his boots clattering on the walkway as he ignored the advertisements lining it. Occasionally, he would take stock of his surroundings, glancing swiftly around him. He continued to move, obviously very certain of his destination. Finally, he came to a lift that would take him to a level where he could find a shuttle or a taxi and waited for it to appear. The young woman pulled something from her cloak and focused it on him, the soft click the apparatus made echoing in the relative silence of the area. He disappeared into the lift.   
  
The young woman watched him as he rose in the lift beyond her vision into the darkness. She let out a slow breath and produced a commlink from somewhere beneath her cloak after concealing her other instrument. "He's here, all right," she said quietly. "He's come back to Coruscant."   
  
***   
  
The dark-haired woman wandered back to the entrance of the cantina, although she didn't go back in. A young man with dirty blond hair appeared from one of the adjoining walkways, wearing a cloak similar to hers, his hood pushed back to hang off his shoulders. "Well, it's nice to know the last few weeks of tracing haven't been a complete waste," he commented to her wryly as he approached.   
  
They made their way back the direction he had come from as she responded, "I think the comfort is more in knowing I didn't have to wear this for no reason." She drew her cloak tighter around her. "The night is cold enough without wearing so few layers."   
  
The young man chuckled, his blue eyes showing his amusement. "I don't know, Raven, the clothes are rather fetching on you."   
  
Raven snorted contemptuously. "Fetching, but not quite functional. What if he had realized I was following him? I have no where to put my saber, and my hand-to-hand is a little rusty."   
  
"Rusty?" he replied incredulously. "I wish I were as good as you at hand-to-hand combat! There are few Jedi you couldn't best with your 'rusty' technique. Now, we could qualify some of your Force manipulations as rusty."   
  
"Watch it, Nat," Raven replied in warning. "You may be my partner, but that doesn't mean I won't make you regret impertinence. Here's our lift."   
  
He grinned at her as they waited for the lift to arrive. "It's all in good fun." The lift beeped, and they stepped inside. Nat leaned against the wall of the lift, regarding her for a moment. "Besides, I don't think you could beat me in saber. I'm at least your weight and three-quarters as much again."   
  
"Perhaps," she replied coolly and noncommittally. A faint smile then appeared at her lips. "We shall have to see at some point."   
  
"So do we have an evening of research ahead of us?"   
  
Raven sighed and rolled her eyes. "Force, I hope not. I doubt it. We just check in with Master Roso and tell him we found Iain. Then we head to bed for a night's full rest to track him down in the morning. Easy as dueling with your eyes closed."   
  
"Of course," Nat answered. The door to the lift opened after it had slowed to a stop, and they both walked onto the small path edging a bank of speeders. Raven slid into the passenger's side of a small red one, leaning back and closing her eyes for a moment.   
  
"Can't say I'd object to a full night's sleep," she commented, opening her eyes again as Nat slid into the driver's seat beside here. "We've been haunting cantinas by night and sorting through Roso's briefings and doing our own research by day for three weeks now."   
  
"Three and a half, actually." Nathaniel eased the speeder out of its slot and pointed it towards one of the threads of airborne traffic. "You're a Jedi; I thought you were trained to handle such physical stresses."   
  
Raven chuckled. "Come now, Knight Younam, you must have learned by now that sleep deprivation is only bearable for short durations."   
  
"I agree with you totally, and you've heard me say as much," he countered.   
  
Raven gave Nathaniel a sardonic look. "Let's just hope the lack of sleep has been worth it."   
  
They rode for a long while in companionable silence, and soon the spires of the Jedi Temple appeared before them. Nathaniel steered the speeder leisurely into one of the lower docking bank connected to the grand building. Raven lifted herself from the speeder and gave a look to the building that towered above her. Then, the pair of Jedi disappeared into a tunnel that would take them into the Temple proper.   
  
Raven followed Nathaniel through the hallways of the Temple, still holding her cloak close. Goosebumps had appeared on her arms and exposed stomach, as the Jedi building was usually kept at slightly cooler temperatures due to the number of layers normal Jedi robes consisted of. She was lost in her own thoughts, speculating on what would be the next component of their mission, when they arrived at the Intelligence seat of the Jedi Order.   
  
The pair walked leisurely to the office of their superior of the Jedi Master Forre Roso, and Nat knocked on the door, patiently waiting for it to be opened. "Do you think he'll want us to go back and locate Iain immediately?" he inquired of his partner after a few moments of no response from the door had passed.   
  
Raven pursed her lips in thought and shrugged finally. "I don't know. I'm just a runner for him. I say leave the strategy to him. He's better at it anyway." She stifled a yawn as she let go of her cloak, hiding her arms in the sleeves of it.   
  
"A runner," Nat snorted. "I'd like to think what we do is a little more legal than that."   
  
"Legal or not, we still both do the same job. Besides, I think it's a little easier to say than an 'Intelligence Special Operations Officer.' We do the brunt work necessitated by the information brought in by the eyes and ears. We run a lot."   
  
Nat laughed and shook his head. "You know, I think I liked you better when you were quiet around me because you didn't know me." Raven just grinned and shrugged in reply as the door hissed open, revealing Roso on the other side.   
  
Roso was rather short in stature, a rather rotund human of about forty years. He had short, cropped gray hair that encircled his skull and fierce brown eyes that seemed to take in everything around him. His nose was hooked like a raptor from a greener planet than Coruscant, and in general, he seemed to have the predatory look of the same kind of animal. His face broke into a forceful look of happiness, and he gestured them into his office.   
  
"You two are back rather early. I hope that's a good sign?" Ruso went to stand behind his desk, moving impressively agilely for his bulk. He sat down and shifted through the pile of datacards on his desk until he found the one detailing their particular mission. Raven moved fluidly to sit in one of the two chairs before his desk, drawing her legs up to cross them in the chair, settling the skirt over her knees. Nat moved away from the door to stand slightly off Raven's right side, between the two guest chairs.   
  
"Of course it is," Nat replied, designating himself spokesperson, as he usually was, "otherwise we'd still be there. We found Iain. For whatever reason, he has returned to Coruscant after falling off our Intelligence maps. Perhaps he thinks that the Chancellor wouldn't ask the Jedi to be involved, because it would be doubtful that the Coruscant Security would be able to trace that file alteration to him."   
  
"The CorSec probably has trouble locating the Senate building some days," Ruso replied dryly. He settled in his seat, still looking at the data card. Raven hid a smile behind her hand, exchanging a quick, bemused glance with Nat. "But I digress. Did you get a picture of him to run through the scanners?"   
  
Raven rolled her eyes but handed him the camera she had used to take his picture. "Doesn't this seem a little unreasonable?" she asked quietly. "You've only showed us his picture a hundred times."   
  
Ruso took the camera and gave Raven a hard look. "It's for your protection. I don't want you chasing after someone who's not our man. That's dangerous, even for Jedi. Information needs to be verified before it's acted upon. That's why the Jedi maintain such a high reputation. We don't make the stupid and dangerous mistakes the CorSec does." He connected it to a small holoprojecter and activated it.   
  
The picture Raven had taken bloomed before her on his desk. He looked at the picture, a speculative look on his face. Finally he sighed and switched off the picture, hooking the camera up to the main database terminal outlet in the surface of his desk. "We'll see what the computer says."   
  
Raven frowned slightly but held her piece. Nat shifted his weight, his cloak rustling against his leggings for a moment in the quiet room. "So what's the next move if it is him, Chief?" he asked in the uncomfortable silence that followed.   
  
"You get him. Bring him here to the Temple so the Council can question him and an official trial can be carried out by the Senate. If this is Iain, then we're accusing him of high crimes; breaking into the government files and altering sensitive data there." The computer beeped, and Ruso moved to checked its results. He gave a smile that amplified the predatory look of him and nodded to the pair in the room. "You found Iain. Bring him here."   
  
***   
  
Raven and Nat were walking down the hall for a few moments before he finally spoke to her. "You know, he's only doing his job and protecting us."   
  
"I know," she replied a little morosely. "It just sounds very much like he doesn't trust us. We are perfectly capable of carrying out his missions…"   
  
"And risking our own lives, Raven," Nat interrupted quietly. She glanced at him, and he made a gesture to forgo her next question. "That's the thing. It's not his life to risk, so he must make us as safe as possible out there. We are his responsibility. If he screws up, it could mean our lives, and that's a heavy burden to carry around for the rest of his."   
  
Raven thoughtfully considered this. "I guess I never thought of it that way."   
  
He shrugged, brushing it off. "My master was always a wreck when his teams were at work. He would fret about them having trouble because of some oversight of his. I've seen the other side."   
  
They continued to walk down the hallway until they came to the lift that would give them access to the residential areas of the Temple. "Why don't we both have a warm supper and then meet tomorrow morning at 0700 to track down Iain. It would be good to rest up before the hardest part," Raven said finally. Their rooms were separate directions from one another, Nat's down a number of floors and Raven's up. Nat nodded his agreement, suddenly looking tired. He mumbled some kind of farewell before disappearing into the first lift that appeared heading his direction.   
  
Raven shook her head after he'd left, a smile hinting around the corners of her mouth. Nathaniel was a good friend of hers, a fellow padawan acquaintance before they had been raised in the same ceremony. Then, they had been assigned as partners together in the Intelligence Corps. They were a good match for each other, Nat's exceptional Force abilities complementing her fighting skills. The pair worked and fought well together, even given his occasionally moodiness and even less frequent frustration with Jedi protocol or rules.   
  
Weariness spread over her suddenly as the lift arrived to take her to her rooms, and Raven moved into it thankfully. The ride was swift, and then she found herself on her floor. It was a short walk to her door, and Raven moved within quietly, shedding her cloak and leaving it on a chair that was pushed beneath the table in her small kitchen area.   
  
Raven went to her sleeping quarters, stripping out of her finer garments into the more comfortable undertunic and leggings of the traditional Jedi garb. She checked a chrono and was surprised to find it was only about 2145, although her body seemed to be under the impression it was much later. The Jedi Knight pulled the pins holding her coiled hair in place, combing her fingers through it as she moved back into the kitchen area.   
  
Humming tunelessly to herself, Raven produced some soup from the food preserver and set about warming it on the heat elements set into the counter. She also brewed a cup of tea, sighing in contentment as she breathed in the aromatic steam from it. It wasn't long before she had settled herself on the couch in the small living area, curled up with a fiction datapad she'd borrowed from the Archives, her tea in one hand and her bowl balanced across her knees with a little assistance from the Force. 


	2. The Chase

Still a project to learn HTML, or at least what of it this site will let me use. :) Also, I forgot in the first post, I apologize for the short divisions within this story. The Jedi Council forums on boards.theforce.net are set up differently, making them (in my humble opinion) more suited to shorter posts. Thus, the chapters are really a bunch of shorter posts which I've crammed together.   
  
Feed back is always appreciated.   
  
This world is Lucas's. I make no money. It's a kind of catharsis for me, so please don't sue me for person pleasure in writing.   
  
~~~~~~~~~   
  
_The Chase_   
  
"I can't believe this."   
  
Raven shot Nat a glare as she moved towards the booth that had held Iain the night before. "Can't we ever pursue someone with good taste in establishments?" he complained, looking slightly put out. Raven ignored him, slipping behind the table where their quarry had ensconced himself when Raven noticed him. "All I want is a good place with some palatable cuisine.   
  
"Quit whining. You're breaking my concentration," Raven replied impatiently. She was ready to be on the move, and Nat must not have slept well, since he was far more sociable the night before than he was now. Nat gave her a petulant look which she ignored as she closed her eyes and immersed herself in the Force.   
  
Taking a deep breath, Raven began to sift through the residue left behind by patrons who had sat here. The task was fairly simplistic, a matter of connecting the visual she associated with Iain to the faint signature she had sense from him. The combination of the two made a thread strong enough for her to follow through the Force. Her eyes opened again, shining with anticipation. "Stop thinking with your stomach," she added. "This is the best part, and I don't want you to ruin it."   
  
Nat's irritable look faded into mere incredulity. "You enjoy this way too much," he finally said.   
  
Raven shrugged, moving away from the booth and heading towards the door. "I love it when all the pieces fall together, and we begin the pursuit. This is the part where justice is done, and we actually help to keep the peace of the Republic."   
  
One eyebrow climbed its way up Nat's forehead, articulating his speculation on Raven's mental state well. "Lead on, then," he chuckled, pushing open the door that lead into the semi-gloom of late morning, "and preferably up."   
  
The dark-haired Jedi followed the trail through the Force that she had discovered, her face betraying her concentration Nathaniel walked behind her, providing a rearguard while she had her attention elsewhere. They were soon standing in front of the lift where Raven had taken his picture.   
  
Taking a deep breath, Raven passed her hand over the indicator panel, focusing on the buttons. Her thin fingers twitched slightly as she moved them over, but then they stopped over one that designated the lift to go about one hundred and fifty stories up, above the entertainment district into the picturesque world of skyscrapers Coruscant was known for. "You got your wish," Raven murmured, still obviously distracted, as she depressed the button.   
  
The lift shot them upwards, and Nat looked out over the cityscape once they had cleared the perpetual haze around about the one-hundredth floor. Raven remained focused on something just beyond the transpariesteel of the elevator doors. The lift began to slow, and when the doors opened, Raven led the way out.   
  
They were in a covered walkway that branched off at right angles from the elevator, arching to the two spires a short distance from the one supporting the elevator. Raven pursued her lips and reached out with her senses. "He went… left," she said, pausing as she traced the tendril he left within the Force.   
  
The arched walkway led to residential apartments, obviously a very upscale neighborhood for residents that weren't affiliated to the Senate or other governmental agencies. Raven arrived at the locked door on the other side and frowned, trying to discern the combination that would open it.   
  
Nat had fallen some distance behind, and he looked out over Coruscant as she worked on the combination. He half-turned when he sensed her nearing the end of the process, having felt through the Force the first four digits of the five-digit number. Something ticked at the back of his awareness. "Watch it, Ven," he said in a low tone, "I think there's someone behind that door who will be none too happy when you open it."   
  
"You mean, Iain doesn't want to be found?" she replied, giving him a grin. Her hand strayed to her lightsaber as she punched in the code.   
  
***   
  
There was no one beyond the door.   
  
Raven turned to give Nat a questioning look. She still clung to the small tendril that was leading into the hallway, its Force signature fading into the distance. She had to concentrate deeply to keep track of it, which is why Younam was sensing for dangers. He shrugged, making a gesture that he could still sense the danger, a little beyond the door and to her right.   
  
As Raven stepped through the doorway, she cast a glance around, seeking out any potential dangers. Finding none, she moved farther into the small foyer, closing her eyes to find the trace of him. Sniffing was always a mental challenge for her, and often the Jedi would have to block out distractions, such as visuals, to be success.   
  
The smell of ozone permeated the small area at the same time the hiss of a blaster echoed, and Raven opened her eyes to see some kind of guard running away as Nat drew and activated his lightsaber. The purple blade hummed as he deflected the two bolts away. "He's going the right way, probably a guard of Iain's," Raven yelled, already running after the youth.   
  
Nat's footsteps echoed next to hers as they raced down the corridor after him. Raven could scent his path through the Force like a hunting beast, smelling the trail his fear left. This wasn't a tried guard, but if he rose the alarm, that wouldn't matter. Iain would come back to Coruscant only to be caught due to inexperience guards.   
  
"This way," Raven called, pulling Nat down a side hallway. The younger sentry could be seen in the distance. He stopped in front of a door and opened it by swiftly punching the code. He was yelling something, though the only word she understood was 'Jedi.'   
  
A far more confident guard appeared, leveling a heavy blaster towards them. Raven tumbled to the ground in a shoulder roll, coming out in time to activate her white saber blade and block the bolts. Her blade hissed, and the ozone affronted her sense of smell. Nat had moved to flank her, and the pair pressed forward, covering each other as they moved.   
  
When the reached the door, Raven slipped into the room as more guards appeared around the corner, called from somewhere. She found herself in a room with more men wielding blasters. She deflected the bolts, her lightsaber humming gratifyingly, as she searched for Iain. He was nowhere to be seen.   
  
Raven continued to move across the room towards a large picture window that gave an impressive view of Coruscant. The Jedi was slightly confused. There were a few doors on her left, but beyond that, she couldn't find a way that Iain would have gotten away. Unless he had never been here.   
  
The extra moment cost Raven her footing. She stumbled slightly, her mind reeling away from introspection of Iain's whereabouts to the more important here and now, and found herself staggering towards the picture window. One of the guards noticed what was happening and took aim at the window. It spider-webbed moments before Raven made impact, and then she was in open air.   
  
***   
  
_Here and now,_ Raven berated herself as she tumbled beyond the building, _You're supposed to remain concentrated on the here and now._ The Jedi pushed away the thought even as it came, searching for something as she deactivated her saber. She located another transparisteel walkway between buildings for pedestrian traffic and shifted her weight to head towards it.   
  
It came up fast, and Raven had to set her shoulder into the cover to as not to land flat on her stomach. Her left shoulder broke into the transparisteel, and the Jedi shielded her face with the same arm. She rolled away, again landing on the same shoulder, in an attempt to diffuse the strength of the fall.   
  
Raven drew herself up on her hands, her shoulder smoldering with pain. Carefully she stood, her head spinning slightly from the impact, only belatedly taking notice of the people around her, looking shocked and disbelieving. Then Raven sensed it. Iain had been here and not moments before her abrupt arrival. She flicked the switch on her saber, noticing blood on her hands with detachment, and took a moment to figure out which way he had gone. Her senses expanded, and Raven took off at a full run to her right, pushing through the still dazed crowd.   
  
She knocked the lock off the door with her saber, knowing the element of surprise was lost. Manipulating the Force to open the door, Raven came into a long hallway, instantly noticing the tall, well-built, graying man she had seen in the cantina the night before. The Jedi was after him and his bodyguards before she even thought about it.   
  
Iain had the advantage; there was little doubt about that. Wherever they had come from, those men hadn't fallen through the walkway. Raven was gaining distance, ignoring the pain in her shoulder and now her hands, but it was a painfully slow increase. Then she had an idea.   
  
Raven slowed, reaching out into the Force beyond the fleeing men. She stopped running and reached out her hand, making a beckoning gesture. The Jedi watched as the men came up short, swept off their feet by something. Raven then resumed her chase, easily catching up as the stun guards scrambled to their feet. They shot a few bolts, which Raven deflected easily. Then, she called their blasters to her hand, earning incredulous looks form the guards. In the meantime, Iain stood, moving behind his bodyguards.   
  
"Chur Iain, I need you to come with me," Raven said authoritatively. Iain shifted, obviously unsure of what to do with his guards unarmed, but still not wanting to give himself up. The Jedi frowned and made a suggestive gesture with her hand towards the guards. "You will not interfere with me," she said, reaching out into the Force to grasp their minds.   
  
"We will not interfere with you," the two men repeated, a dazed look coming into their eyes. The two men moved out of the way as Raven approached Iain.   
  
"You weak-minded fools!" he cried, turning to run.   
  
Raven tackled him, twisting around his side to grab his hand. Iain landed, immediately rolling in an attempt to pin her. He slammed her into the corridor wall, and Raven grunted in response, her shoulder making its presence known. She braced herself against the wall and shoved him away from her, wedging a knee between her torso and his back. Snaking her left hand around him, she grabbed his left wrist and wrenched it painfully behind him. Using her weight to keep his arm in place, Raven reached for a pair of stun cuffs on her utility belt. It was on his wrist with a flick of hers, but then he shifted her, rolling her off.   
  
The Jedi stifled a curse, trying to move to tackle him again. Iain didn't cooperate, though, pinning her beneath him. The cuffs rattled against his wrist as he moved to choke her. Raven twisted, slipping one of her legs between them and bodily pushing him away. She used the momentum to continue rolling him until she was on top. Raven jammed her knee into his gut, knocking the wind out of him, and grabbed his other wrist, clicking the other half of the stun cuffs to it. Almost instantaneously, the fight went out of Iain, and he slumped backwards, lying on the floor to stare placidly at the ceiling.   
  
***   
  
Raven pushed herself to her feet, feeling the full pain from her shoulder and her hands now that she wasn't in immediate danger. Glancing at her hands, she found crisscrossed marks from the transparisteel as well as red from the blood. Raven sighed, slipping the overlapping outertunic out of the way to wipe them on her undertunic, taking off as much of the excess as she could. "Another tunic ruined," she mumbled to herself, although rightfully, she knew she was lucky to have survived that fall. She moved the outertunic back into place, hiding the bloodstains.   
  
The Jedi then clipped her lightsaber back to her utility belt and found her comlink. Raven thumbed it on when she noticed the two bodyguards were still there, watching her disinterestedly. "You will go back to your homes and be back to your normal selves in an hour," she informed them with another wave of her hand, watching as they wandered away.   
  
Raven put in the code for Nat and waited for it to click over, indicating he had responded. "I've got him," the Jedi said into the comlink. "He's lying at my feet right now, enjoying a pair of stun cuffs."   
  
"Put up that good of a fight, did he?" Nat replied dryly.   
  
"You have no idea. Ruso isn't going to be happy with me. I broke the cover to a walkway, but I figured that was preferable to becoming one with the Force, not to mention the permacrete some one hundred stories below."   
  
Nathaniel chuckled. "I sat the work you made of the window in that apartment. The thing I can't figure out is why you didn't check the rooms first."   
  
"It wasn't really an option at the time. You'll appreciate this: I went out the window because I was thinking too hard." A snort echoed from her link, and then Nat's baritone laughter came through. "So now what do we want to do?"   
  
"That all depends. Do you think you can make it back to the Temple with Iain in tow, or would you like a little help?"   
  
"A little help would be appreciated. The transparisteel and I didn't get along, and the floor didn't appreciate me either. Iain ought to be easily contained, but if something goes wrong, I want you here to help me out." Raven glanced down at the form of Chur Iain, incapacitated from the cuffs.   
  
"Sounds good. If you give me your coordinates, I'll be there momentarily."   
  
Raven gave him the coordinates and produced some clean rags from her utility belt. Carefully she began shredding them to wrap around the palms of her hands. The Jedi inspected her cuts precisely, noting that most of them were merely superficial, if bloody. A few of the larger ones did still have the transparisteel caught in the wound, though Raven quickly removed them before finishing her ministrations.   
  
Nat appeared, walking leisurely down the hallway, an amused look on his face as he approached her. "I saw your handiwork," her partner chuckled. "I think I'm going to start a pool when we get back to the Temple on who thinks when you'll finally meet your end. We've been partners since we became knights, and I think you've defied death at least half a dozen times since then. It's only been what, ten months?"   
  
"A little over eleven, actually," Raven replied drolly, "and if you want horror stories about my death-defying antics, just talk to my master. When she wasn't ready to kill me herself over class performance, I was trying inadvertently to kill myself, one way or another."   
  
The pair helped Iain to his feet and led him through the corridors back to their speeder. The stun cuffs worked well, making their job fairly easy. He was soon strapped into their speeder, ready to be taken to the Temple.   
  
***   
  
"Who is this lovely fellow?"   
  
Raven looked up at the cultured voice, smiling at the friendly face before her. Master Dooku was well known in the Temple as a man of strong opinions, often disagreeing with the Temple. Still, despite these difficulties, he was respected amongst the ranks of the Jedi and an acquaintance of her own master, Daré Shioc. He was an imposing figure with sharp features and a neatly trimmed black and gray beard. His hair was always meticulously combed away from his face and his clothes neat and clean. She had taken a few classes under the venerable Master, and her own opinions about the nature of the Republic and its relationship towards the Jedi tended towards his own.   
  
"Some baggage the Chancellor asked us to collect for his people to question," Raven replied. "He's accused of altering sensitive data within the government files."   
  
A cloud crossed Dooku's face as he regarded the placid prisoner, and Raven knew that he was wondering why the Jedi had been involved at all. Still, he held his tongue, just giving his head a regretful shake. Nat glanced between to two, obviously not as familiar with Dooku on a personal level as Raven, and broke the brief silence. "Ven, why don't you go on down to the infirmary for your hands and shoulder? I doubt Iain will be much trouble for me."   
  
"Sounds like a plan," Raven replied, veering off to head down to the infirmary. Dooku nodded a farewell and disappeared down the hallway the opposite direction from Nat. It was a short walk to the infirmary, and Raven enjoyed the moment of not having anything to do. All was right with the word, and even the ache in her shoulder couldn't dampen her spirits.   
  
Raven pushed open the glass doors separating the infirmary from the hallway and grinned at her friend, Elep Irec, who rolled her eyes. "I've already seen you once this month," the purple Twi'lek groaned, her lekku twitching in mock-frustration.   
  
Smiling disarmingly, Raven shrugged and proceeded to grimace from the gesture. She held up her roughly bandaged hands and showed them to her friend. "Give me a break. I could have died today."   
  
Elep blinked thoughtfully, shaking her head as she studied the stripped cloth biding Raven's hands. "You're a Jedi; that's a possibility for every day," she retorted. Then the Healer smiled back. "Come with me, and I'll clean you up."   
  
When the pair had relocated to an examination room, Elep began to unbind Raven's hands, her eyes twinkling impishly. "So what did you do this time?" she asked, inspecting the myriad of cuts on her palms. "I feel through the transparisteel enclosure on a walkway," Raven replied, sounding a little resigned. She flexed her hands, feeling the sting of the movements.   
  
Elep began to clean out the blood and dropped a few bandages to soak in bacta before she applied them. "Sounds fun. At least you didn't fall a hundred fifty stories first. Or did you?" The Twi'lek gave her a questioning look.   
  
"No, I didn't. I fell one, maybe two stories before I crash-landed. You'll have to look at my shoulder for that as well."   
  
The Healer chuckled indulgently. "If I were you, I'd be dead by now." She began to bind the wounds on her hands, covering the wet bandages with dry ones.   
  
"I get that a lot."   
  
"I'd imagine. And where was your good-for-nothing partner?" Elep tied the dressing and trimmed it, giving Raven a look.   
  
Raven began to shrug again and stopped mid-gesture, remembering the consequences. "He was not there. Still out in the hallway covering for me." She watched as Elep's lekku twitched again, showing her doubts on that issue. "We work well together, Elep. He's a good partner."   
  
"If you like moody and unreliable," the Twi'lek shot back. She pursed her lips and tried to look formidable. Raven shook her head and sighed.   
  
"He has gotten worse lately," Raven conceded, "but I think that he is just restless. He's doing what he watched his master do forever, and he wants to move on to something else. I'm sure he'll settle once he finds his niche."   
  
It was obvious the Healer didn't agree, but she merely asked to see Raven's shoulder. Letting out a low whistle, Elep inspected the other Jedi's injury. "You're going to be feeling this one for a while," Elep said, amusement in her voice. "It's about the color of me, and this happened when? About an hour ago?"   
  
"Roughly," Raven replied, grimacing as the Healer's cold fingers probed her sore shoulder.   
  
"I've never seen anything bruise that quickly that completely! You should put bacta salve on it in the mornings and in the evenings. That should help abate some of the tenderness and help it heal a little more quickly. But beyond that, there's not much I can do for you. Do a few healing trances and try to be kind to it. I'd hate to see the enclosure," she added with a grin.   
  
"It's in a thousand little pieces, some of which lodged in my hands. Does being kind to it mean I can't participate in the tournament in ten days?"   
  
Elep sat back and shifted to take a protective stance in front of Raven. "You do not need to be competing in the single sparring matches," the Twi'lek warned, waving one of her lekku in admonition. "Don't you dare sign up."   
  
"I already have," Raven replied, tilting her head to the side and neglecting to mention that she was competing in the weight class above her own. Elep shook her head and slumped back on the medical bed next to her friend. "Don't try to stop me. I will compete."   
  
"I know you will. That's what worries me." 


	3. A Matter of Dedication

I think I have this all figured out now. You know the drill: I write because I must write, but feedback is definitely a perk of this labor of love. George owns all. I'm merely a poor college student, which guarantees you won't get much from me.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
_A Matter of Dedication_   
  
Raven left the infirmary already feeling her pain abating. Weariness swept over her, and the Jedi Knight checked her chrono. Nat would have already delivered Iain and was probably briefing Ruso. The events of the morning caught up with her, and for the first time since it had happened, Raven realized truly that she could have easily died.   
  
Elep's opinions of Nat lingered over her, and Raven forced herself to consider what her friend had said. The Jedi had no idea what had delayed her partner in following her or Iain. She was certain he would have sensed the flash of instinctual terror from the fall before she had quelled it, as well as the pain of her landing. The pair was somewhat attuned to each other, which was part of the reason they were paired together.   
  
Pausing in the hallway, Raven closed her eyes and reached out into the Force, searching for her partner's signature. He was easy enough to located through the Force, but she couldn't sense much beyond his existence. It almost seemed that a haze had formed around him. Raven frowned thoughtfully, considering. She used to be capable to at least knowing his mood, if not his thoughts or impressions. A baseline notion of whether Nathaniel was tired or bored, hungry or impatient, should have been within Raven's reach. But it wasn't. It was almost as if her partner was withdrawing from the Force.   
  
A disturbing, half-formed idea hedged along the edge of Raven's thoughts, but she ignored it, moving away from the line of reasoning. She had no reason to doubt her partner and doing so would only cause her problems in the field. He had saved her life countless times in this line of work, and she his. Listening to gossip and speculation was not the way of a Jedi.   
  
She went back to her room and stripped out of her torn tunic and noticed that her leggings had numerous slits in them, presumably from the transparisteel. Raven changed those as well, putting both in a small pile of rags she kept for cleaning or other tasks. Eventually, she would strip them and keep them in one of her utility belt pouches for other field uses. She pulled on a fresh tunic and leggings and then pulled the small leather strand from her hair, letting her long, dark tresses spill down her back.   
  
Raven lounged around in her quarters for a little while, enjoying the solitude and the serenity. This had been Nat and her fourth mission with no rest. Now, they were slated for a standard month's rest and relaxation. Raven had intended to use the extra time to work up her saber technique, although her shoulder might prevent her from becoming as good as she hoped. It would take a lot of preparation to be able to compete well in her weight class of choice. The Jedi sighed as she mulled over that situation; she might just have to ignore Elep's warning to lay off the physical exertion. She could be kind to her shoulder after the tournament.   
  
The dark-haired woman rolled her shoulders and received a dull ache in return. Raven pursed her lips. Elep was right though, at least for today. She couldn't do much without running the risk of tearing the muscle while it was bruised or causing some other kind of further injury. Deciding to go to a meditation room for a healing trance, Raven left her rooms.   
  
***   
  
Some hours later, Raven come out of her healing trance to hear voices talking beyond the door to the small room. She sat cross-legged on a small, circular divan. A faint smile curled at the corners of her lips. She recognized one of the voices as her own master, Daré Shioc, although the other was unknown to her. Her master was trying to convince the owner of the other voice that he could knock on the door, that Raven wasn't going to be angry at the interruption.   
  
"I've never met a member of the Intelligence Corps," the young voice said a little shyly, "and I don't want her to think that I'm awful at my katas and sparring. I just want to do well at the tournament. Master Shioc, I really think I shouldn't interrupt her!"   
  
"Emrys, trust me. She's my former padawan. Raven doesn't become upset when someone interrupts her meditation." Raven smiled as she slid from her perch, hearing the amusement in her master's clear, alto voice. The Jedi Knight opened the door to find a young boy standing with her master, who wore a small, knowing smile. "Now, interrupting her sparrings or katas? That's a different story."   
  
"Come, now, Master, I'm not as temperamental as I used to be," Raven replied, her smile widening. She moved into the hallway and gave her master a hug, having to bend over slightly. "At least now I used my words to display displeasure instead of my lightsaber," she added impishly.   
  
The young boy paled slightly, looking nervously at the older Jedi. Daré gave him a reassuring look, ruffling his light brown, cropped hair. "Emrys Teve, meet Raven Suul. Raven, this is Emrys." The two exchanged respectful bows as was customary for Jedi. "He is a student in one of my political science classes, and he has signed up to compete in the tournament. However, the poor boy is afraid he may not do as well as he hopes and asked me to help him prepare. As you know, my words are much more effective than my blade, so I offered to introduce him to you presuming you might assist him." The Jedi Master raised one eyebrow and cocked her head to the side expectantly.   
  
"Of course I would be happy to help him," Raven replied with genuine enthusiasm. Emrys gave her a grateful smile, his dark brown eyes sparkling. "Just don't ask me for help with your more academic classes. I'm afraid that would be a mistake on your part. Also, don't believe everything she's told you about me. Daré tends to exaggerate a bit," the Knight added in a conspiring whisper, punctuation with wink.   
  
Daré gave her former padawan a look and hid her hands within her sleeves. "May you take a padawan that drove you as crazy as you did me," she retorted, an enigmatic smile appearing on her lips. "I must take my leave now, given that I have my own business to attend to. Good day, Emrys. Behave, Raven." The Jedi Master inclined her head slightly then glided down the hall.   
  
"So what division have you signed up for, Emrys?" Raven asked the younger Jedi. He had watched Daré Shioc move down the hall until she had disappeared.   
  
"I'm in the sparring event, smallest weight class," he said a little hesitantly. It was obvious the younger boy was shy in front of her, certainly not as comfortable with her as with her master.   
  
Raven smiled encouragingly. "That's my favorite, the simple man-to-man. Have you competed before?"   
  
Emrys shook his head, looking disappointed. "No, I was sick the last time they were arranged, and the time before that I was too young to compete."   
  
"How old are you?"   
  
"I'm nine, though everyone says I look younger than that, especially when I spar," he said glumly. Raven gave him a sympathetic look. She felt the familiar pang of being out of place, not being like the others.   
  
"You'll grow and learn to fight better, Emrys, have no doubt about that. You'll find your place among the others, and I say this from experience."   
  
He looked at her curiously, disbelief flickering on his features. "You've felt like you haven't belonged? But you're so…" he paused as he searched for an appropriate word, "adept!"   
  
Raven knelt down to look Emrys in the eye. "Emrys, at your age, I could barely lift small objects with the Force and could have been bested in any manipulation by anyone six years. If you keep fighting, one day, you'll be as good as any one your age or better. But it takes work and dedication. No one said it would be easy. I'll be here to help me, if you want."   
  
A faint smile crossed his lips, although he still looked a little upset. "Thanks, Knight Suul."   
  
Raven smiled at him. "It's either Raven or just Ven. Knight Suul is too formal for me."   
  
"All right, Raven," Emrys answered.   
  
Raven stood as she said, "I hurt my shoulder in a mission earlier this morning, so I shouldn't be doing much with it today. Would you like to meet tomorrow morning in one of the practice rooms right after breakfast?" She grinned again as the young boy silently nodded with excitement. "I will see you then."   
  
***   
  
"Take a wider stance."   
  
Emrys cocked his head to the side, looking at Raven with a mixture of confusion and desperation to please. Moving his arms and feet slightly, the young Jedi shifted his weight, watching the Jedi Knight with fear and awe evident in his liquid brown eyes.   
  
Raven shifted a little herself, resisting the urge to chuckle indulgently at his attempt. The boy was obviously trying his hardest to please her, to do what she asked, but he didn't seem to know exactly what it was she was asking him to do. "Do you understand what I mean by widening your stance?" she asked gently, kneeling down to be more on the same level as Emrys.   
  
Hesitation showed in his features followed swiftly by shame. "No, Knight…" he paused, remembering her gentle admonishment from the night before, then corrected himself, "Raven."   
  
"Do I frighten you?"   
  
Emrys shook his head slowly, looking forlorn. "Not you, exactly." He paused, licking his lips in a nervous gesture. He dropped his stance. "I'm afraid that I will be a failure, that no one will take me as a padawan, and I will be dismissed from the Order because I have nothing to contribute," he suddenly said in a rush, turning away to hide his face.   
  
Raven sighed, feeling the echo of his pain within her, knowing his wounds because she had felt the same. She reached out a hand and touched his shoulder, earning a flinch from him. "Emrys, look at me," the Jedi said softly, her voice commanding.   
  
The initiate looked at her, tears running freely down his face. Gently, Raven brushed them away as he blinked, vainly trying to end the flow. "Emrys, listen to me. If you had no purpose for being in this Order, they wouldn't have brought you here in the first place. You are not a failure. You can manipulate the Force well for one your age. Just because you haven't mastered fighting doesn't make you a failure. That fact that you are here, now, trying to amend that proves to me that you have the heart of a Jedi, the perseverance and the determination. Those are more important than twirling a lightsaber."   
  
He watched her, searching her face to find the truth in what she said. Finally, he shook his head, his eyes still damp, and buried his face in her shoulder, shaking from sobs. Raven held Emrys for a long time, until his fears had subsided and his eyes were dry.   
  
"Are you ready to try again, Emrys?" Raven asked gently.   
  
He pulled away and wiped the last of the dampness from his face. "Yes, Ven," he replied with a sad but determined smile. "What does it mean to widen my stance?"   
  
Raven rocked back onto her heels and stood fluidly. "A wider stance means your feet are farther apart. You stand with your feet close, as so, and that makes your balance much more faulty. If you stand with your feet spread out, wider apart, you have better balance. Balance is key to what you are trying to do."   
  
Emrys stood and assumed a defensive position, spreading his feet farther apart. Raven nodded her approval and saluted him with her saber hilt before activating her white blade. Emrys followed suit, his a brilliant yellow. They exchanged a few blows, Raven watching his movements carefully.   
  
"That's not bad," she smiled to him as he parried her blow, "but you need to close your movements a little." He nodded slowly, furrowing his brow in concentration to keep his movements closer to him, protecting his body through his motions.   
  
Raven worked him mercilessly during the first lesson, watching his methods and choosing a few of his weaknesses and strengths to focus on during this round. Carefully tempering her compliments with her chastisements, Emrys began to gain confidence, which caused him to do better. Her suspicion had been that that was part of the young boy's problem.   
  
"That was good work," she told him when they had finished the lesson. Raven gave him a toothy grin, one that shown with pride in his improvement. "If you work like this every day until the tournament, you ought to place well. Shall we meet here tonight to have another bout?"   
  
"I'd like that, Ven," he replied. Emrys was covered in sweat from his work, but he glowed with happiness what he felt he'd accomplished. He stood shyly for a moment, then he moved to embrace her. "Thank you for everything," he added softly, his face buried in her side.   
  
Raven smiled gently at the top of his head, returning the hug and ruffling his hair. "You're very welcome, Emrys." He then slid away, disappearing from the practice room. Raven let out a deep breath, one she hadn't realized that she'd been holding._It's absolutely incredible what a little encouragement can do for someone,_ she mused silently, and the image of him leaving was superimposed in her mind with one of a little, dark-haired girl who had shed many similar tears.   
  
***   
  
A few days passed pleasantly, between spending time working with Emrys and generally relaxing on her own. Raven spent much of her personal time working on her own technique for the tournament, testing her shoulder to see how far she could push it.   
  
The morning before the tournament, Raven was awakened from a deep sleep by someone knocking at the door. A groan emitted from her lips as she rolled from her sleep couch, her shoulder protesting her workout the night before. Her awareness was amplified as she hit the floor, and another, more audible groan came from her. Begrudgingly, the Jedi admitted that perhaps her healer friend had been correct. She pulled on an outer robe to cover her smallclothes and answered the door.   
  
The initiate before her must have been about six years old. The young girl look at the Jedi Knight, shock clearly written on her face, before she managed to collect herself and remember the purpose in her presence. "Are you Knight Suul?"   
  
"Most days," Raven replied, stifling a yawn. "Depends on who is asking." She ran a hand through her now-tangled long hair, getting her fingers caught in the dark tresses.   
  
"You have a summons to the Council," the initiate said uncertainly, watching as the older woman pulled her hand from her hair with an un-Jedi-like grimace. She thrust a datapad towards the Knight, bowed deferentially, and disappeared down the hall.   
  
Raven moved back within her apartment, her brow furrowed. What did the Council want with her? She skimmed the datapad. The body of the message was that they wanted to meet, although it didn't say why, that evening at 1745 The Jedi Knight frowned; she had promised to work with Emrys one last time at 1830 before the tournament tomorrow.   
  
She set the datapad on the counter and drummed her fingers next to it, thinking. Raven moved to her commlink and put in the code for Nathaniel. The link chimed a number of times, and the Knight indulged herself in a smile, imagining him fumbling for his link, not unlike her trying to answer her door.   
  
"Younam here," the link finally grumbled at her.   
  
Raven grinned again before replying, "I have a favor to ask of you." "This early in the morning, the answer is always no."   
  
"Master Shioc asked me to help an initiate train for the tournament tomorrow. We've been meeting in the evenings at 1830 in the practice area. However, the Council has summoned me to meet with them at 1745. I'm afraid I may not make it to work with Emrys. Will you work with him until I can get there?"   
  
Her partner gave a beleaguered sigh. "Must be the day for those summons. I got one as well, due for 1700. Probably about Iain."   
  
"Probably. So will you do it for me?"   
  
"I suppose."   
  
"Thanks! I'll let you get back to your sleep now. I wouldn't want to keep you up, Nat."   
  
"Something like that." Her link clicked, and Raven knew he had probably hidden it somewhere so it wouldn't hear it go off again. She chuckled to herself at his expense. Then, the Knight threw on a clean pair of robes and headed to the practice area to meet with Emrys to tell him about this evening and work with him for tomorrow.   
  
***   
  
Raven never saw him coming.   
  
She was contemplating the reason for having to appear before the Council, her hands buried in the sleeves of her dark outer robe. Her hair was unbound and falling in her line of vision, as it was apt to do, so she wasn't overly aware of her surroundings to begin with. The only thing that existed to her was the path she knew very well to the Council Chambers and her own thoughts.   
  
And then Nat ran into her.   
  
Raven was startled to say the least, her hand straying to her lightsaber, wrenching it from her belt, before she realized that the threat against her was merely her own partner. It was not her partner, though, not as she knew him. Nat's blue eyes had a feral look to them, one of anger and resentment. He reeled away from her, shaking his head. "Are you all right, Nathaniel?" Raven asked warily, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.   
  
He jerked away and eyed Raven carefully before throwing a wild gesture towards the Council. "Hypocrites!" he yelled, raw emotion in his voice. The dark-haired woman couldn't help but draw away from him. He exuded anger and hate, raw emotions that Jedi weren't supposed to hold but meditate away from themselves. Elep's words sprang to her mind yet again unbidden, although at this moment, Raven didn't have a hard time believing them.   
  
"They say that Jedi crave not power or influence, but the twelve of them sit in there holding and seeking more power and influence than the rest of the Order combined! They wish to keep it to themselves, to foster their power and increase it for themselves!" Her partner exhaled sharply and grabbed her shoulders, shoving his face contorted with emotion into hers, giving her a clear view of his wild eyes. "I know of a way to pull more power from the Force, but they don't wish to hear it. They want the power to themselves. Hypocrites!"   
  
Nat released her, much to Raven's relief. He stumbled away, his passionate rage making his steps haphazard. She heard him mutter something about showing them all, but then he was beyond her hearing.   
  
Raven took a deep breath, feeling her heart race within her chest. The fear flooded her, and she dropped to her knees and took a moment to recollect herself. Something within her revolted at the sight of her partner, and she knew that something was wrong with him, whether it was something said by the Council or something he himself had done.   
  
"Knight Suul?"   
  
Raven looked up at the voice to find herself face to face with a page that ushered people into and out of the Council Chambers. An uncertain look was on the girl's face as she looked at the Jedi Knight before her. Raven stood up slowly, visibly recollecting herself. "The Council is ready to see you," the page said, gesturing towards the Chamber.   
  
"Thank you," Raven replied, allowing herself to be lead into the antechamber just outside the formal Council Chambers. The page gave her a respectful bow then disappeared back into the waiting area.   
  
The realization then hit her with full force.   
  
_Emrys._   
  
The doors were already closed behind her, and Raven couldn't just leave the twelve most powerful and important Jedi waiting on her. She would have to pray that the meeting was short, and she would be able to reach Emrys in time, before Nat got to him. Raven had never seen him that angry, and she doubted that it would be abated much by the time he was to spar with the initiate. A cold feeling lodged itself in the pit of her stomach.   
  
_Force, keep him safe._


	4. Empty Words

I would imagine we all have this figured out by now... This world is Lucas's; these are merely my convoluted ideas that somehow get scrawled down into stories. I make no money. It's just that this is cheaper than therapy. Feedback is welcomed, because it helps me to write better.   
  
~~~~~~~~~   
_Empty Words_   
  
She was late.   
  
The chronos on the walls of the Temple all read 1840, ten minutes past when she should have met Emrys for his saber lesson. The meeting with the Council hadn't been too stressful at all. Due to the political implications of Iain's capture, the members simply wanted to have a clear idea of what was entailed in his capture, since the politicians at the Senate would want to know the details. They had quizzed her for fifty-five minutes, apparently oblivious to her growing discomfort. Then, they had dismissed her, the Knight's stomach tied in knots.   
  
Raven careened through the hallways, paying little attention to the other unfortunate inhabitants that got in her way. No few number of cries pursued her down the hallway, other Jedi affronted by her lack of decorum, but Raven never heard, fully concentrating on making it the practice arenas in the shortest amount of time possible.   
  
The Jedi Knight rounded the corner that lead to the hallway lined with doors of the practice rooms, her heart beating in her ears. Fear was rolling from the place in almost palpable waves. It took only a breath to find the right room, and Raven flung open the door.   
  
Emrys was crouched defensively, trying vainly to protect himself with his saber. Nat stalked around him, lashing out viciously with his own, scoring substantial burns on the initiate. To her eyes, her partner was quickly losing patience with the young boy, and before her eyes, the blows shifted aim from merely injurious to deadly.   
  
The moments it took the dark-haired Jedi to traverse the distance between her and the pair stretched into an eternity as she watched Emrys fall in an attempt to back away from him. Nat swung his purple blade high in the air and brought it down, his face contorted in a sneer and his eyes burning with anger.   
  
The Knight threw herself between her partner and Emrys, the image of the boy's terror-stricken face etched in her memory. She blocked the deadly blow and threw Nat on the offensive, driving him away from the initiate. He bared his teeth viciously, attacking with hard, well-placed blows. Raven parried each one of them, running on adrenaline and a strong connection to the Light Side of the Force. She could sense the Dark Side well up within him, and he struck towards her with his hand. Raven tumbled to the ground, knocked away by a Force-push, disoriented by a moment of pain as she landed on her tender shoulder, and then she watched Nat retreat, disappearing back into the hallway.   
  
Her breath came in labored gasps, more from the tension and surprise than the actual brief exchange. Raven worked to control it, and then she suddenly became aware of Emrys again. Tipping her head backwards, the Knight got an upside view of the young boy, who had curled into a fetal position. He was shaking, and Raven realized that the shakes were from sobs as she rolled from her back to her stomach and moved to her young friend.   
  
"Come here," she whispered comfortingly, "you are safe now." Raven drew him into her arms, and Emrys clung to her, his head buried in her shoulder. His small frame was wracked from the sobs, and the Knight lost track of how long they sat together, with him halfway in and out of her lap, soaking her tunic with his tears. Gently she rocked him and murmured comforts to the initiate.   
  
After a long period of time, Emrys's tears stopped sliding down his cheeks, although he still would tremble uncontrollably from time to time. "Let's go to the infirmary, Emrys," Raven said quietly, in a soothing tone, "you're probably in shock." The dark-haired Jedi gathered the smaller initiate into her arms. She looked down at his face, seeing once again his terrified look when Nat tried to kill him for no reason at all, and regret swept over her.   
  
"I am so sorry," she whispered to Emrys, holding him close to her, as she bore him down to the infirmary.   
  
***   
  
Raven gently pushed open the glass doors to the infirmary by walking through it backwards, carefully cradling the sandy-haired initiate in her arms. His liquid brown eyes had closed at some point during the journey, and he had curled closer towards her, as though trying to find solace in her proximity.   
  
Elep was on duty that evening, sitting with her feet propped up on the receptionist desk, reading a datapad. She glanced up, and her lekku twitched in confusion and concern as she saw her friend carrying the small nine-year-old. Her feet shifted to the floor, and the Healer moved towards Raven and Emrys.   
  
Negating any comment with a shake of her head, Raven glanced down at the boy and then at her Twi'lek friend. "You stand correct about Nat," she said quietly.   
  
With a sigh and a sympathetic look, the Healer ushered her into an examination room. Raven gently laid him on the table, earning a frightened look from him. Emrys struggled to sit upright, and the Jedi Knight carefully helped him. Elep stood before them, glancing from Raven to Emrys and back again, until she finally demanded an explanation.   
  
The dark-haired Jedi gave a contrite shrug. "There isn't much to tell. I was in a Council meeting, and I had asked Nat to work with Emrys because I was afraid that I might be late. He agreed. I met him on my way to the Chamber raging and ranting about power and hypocrisy. Then, after the meeting, I hurried to the practice area. Nat was there, giving the lad a sound beating with his blade. His face was contorted, and he was angry, Elep, more angry than I've ever seen him. When I came in, I watched as he scored a few burns on his arms and torso. Then, he changed his purpose from injury to death. Emrys tripped, and I managed to get between him and Nat. I could sense the Dark Side rolling from him, like breakers in the oceans of Alderaan. We exchanged a few parries, neither scoring a hit, when he Force-pushed me to the floor and fled."   
  
Silence filled the room as the Twi'lek inspected Emrys's burns. She also took his temperature and checked the dilation of his eyes. Raven moved to lean against a wall, her arms folded across her chest. The Jedi Knight had concern for Emrys etched on her face. "What happened before Raven came?" Elep finally asked Emrys.   
  
His brown eyes had followed her movements, and he made no attempt to interrupt Elep's ministrations. However, when Elep asked him that question, tears filled the young boy's eyes, and he shook his head slightly. The Healer glanced at her friend, watched as Raven's eyes also filled with tears. She glanced away, ashamed to witness her friend's guilt and fear. Instead, she fetched some bacta and began to smear it on the burns that crossed Emrys's arms and chest.   
  
Emrys glanced at Raven, and even through her tears and his, she could see the fear still fresh in his face. "Emrys?" she said haltingly, choking back a sob. She pressed a hand to her face, and when she closed her eyes for a moment, she saw Nat rushing him, his saber move for a kill, anger full in his face. Her eyes snapped open again, finding the initiate staring at her intently.   
  
"He's probably suffering from shock. He should be all right in a few days, at least as far as the shock is concerned," Elep broke in. "I'm going to put him in an overnight room so I can keep an eye on him." The Healer moved hesitantly towards the door but then turned back to look at Raven. "You must inform the Council."   
  
Raven glanced between Emrys and Elep. "I'm not going to leave him, at least not tonight. I got him into this mess. I'm going to at least see him through it," she countered firmly.   
  
The Twi'lek looked displeased. "You have a duty--"   
  
"I have a duty to him as well, and I think the Council is more in a position to wait than he," Raven interrupted.   
  
"Then collect your duty, and bring him to an overnight room," Elep replied crisply. "I'm going to find a Council member and bring him to you."   
  
Raven shrugged, helping Emrys from the examination table. "So be it."   
  
***   
  
The dark-haired Jedi had settled on the floor in the room assigned to Emrys with her legs crossed and her eyes closed. Before leaving to fulfill her threat, Elep had led Raven, helping the young initiate along, to this room, where she had helped settle the boy on the bed. Then, she had administered some kind of draught to him, medicine for the boy to sleep. When Raven asked what medical purpose that served, Elep had given her a hard look and informed her it would help him to sleep. The Knight had been unable to tell if the Healer was angry with her or merely frustrated at the situation.   
  
Settling into meditation, Raven could sense that Nathaniel hadn't left the Temple. He was lurking somewhere, out of notice from the other Jedi. If she were to venture a guess, she would suppose he was in his room. Privately, she suspected he would not quit the Temple until the next evening, after the tournament. Nat was signed up, and his pride, un-Jedi-like as it might be, wouldn't allow him to go without competing. And if he won, he would win fairly without the Dark Side. There would be too many observers for it to be otherwise.   
  
Raven delved past the here and now, beyond the tidal Living Force into the greater Unifying Force. The Knight always felt a little out of place here. Her mastery of the Force total was unimpressive at best, and her struggle to make even that much progress was mostly due to this essence of the Force. Raven could connect and comprehend the Living Force, giving its in-the-moment revelations. It was the fighter's deity, the ever changing and adapting. The Unifying Force was something greater, the vast future ahead to experience and the venerable past behind from which to learn. It was the scholar's essence, the contemplation and less erratic.   
  
As customary, Raven felt dwarfed and inept in this thrum of life. She drifted in its eddies, letting the Force take her where it deemed necessary. The Knight was swept away in the ocean of impressions and thoughts, things that might be or had already been. Still, nothing was clarified. Raven watched as Nat's visage appeared before his, his face angry and his saber raised high. As he swung it down, the scene altered, and a green blade blocked the hit. It faded, the green saber becoming her own white one. A man's face hovered before her, but she didn't know him and it didn't matter because he was dying, his long hair strung across his leonine features and fading eyes. Nat was running again, but he wasn't in the practice arena. Raven felt profound sadness wash over her, and she knew that she, or whoever's emotions she was sensing, was lost and alone. And everything was obscured by shadows.   
  
Raven drew a deep breath, not comprehending what she had just seen, and opened her eyes. Before her sat the youngest member of the Jedi Council, one Mace Windu, with a thoughtful expression on his harsh features. His fingers were steepled. Raven licked her lips in a nervous gesture before rising to her feet calmly. Inwardly, however, the Jedi Knight felt like a small child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Raven would always be more comfortable in the rough and tumble of the field than the administration of the Temple.   
  
She bowed respectfully to him, thankful that Elep had located a Council member she at least knew vaguely. Windu brought his palms together, watching the Knight carefully before aiming a sweeping gesture towards the sleeping initiate. "What happened?" he asked concisely.   
  
Raven launched into the explanation for the second time that evening, leaving nothing out for fear it might be of import. When she had finished, she waited calmly with her hands folded before her. Mace sat, looking at her, or perhaps past her, with his brown eyes distant. His nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply.   
  
"You're sure he was using the Dark Side?" he finally asked, leaning forward in his chair.   
  
"Yes, Master Windu," Rave replied. "It was hard to sense and oily, unable to be grasped or sensed."   
  
The dark-skinned Jedi Master sat very still, and Raven could almost hear him contemplating the implications of this. Finally, he shook his head slightly and stood. "We must discuss this in the Council," he said gravely.   
  
Raven was shocked. "But he is still in the Temple. Shouldn't you do something first?"   
  
"Never act without first considering the consequences," Mace replied, a hint of a grin appearing at the corners of his mouth. "I will call together the Council in the morning, and we will contemplate the best course of action in this matter."   
  
The inner warrior grated at the Master's scholarly statement. "Why not this evening?" Raven asked, realizing that she was probably being disrespectful, but decided she didn't care.   
  
Spreading his arms wide in a placating gesture, Mace just sighed. "There is strife in the Senate, and the Council has been assisting the Chancellor. After that this morning and afternoon and meetings this evening, the Council doesn't need to be called again. Good night, Knight Suul."   
  
The Jedi Knight's jaw dropped, and Mace had disappeared before she could formulate a response. Strife in the Senate superseded strife in the Temple. Shaking her head as if to clear it, Raven walked out into the hall, although she wasn't surprised to find that Mace Windu was already gone. Elep, however, was standing in front of the receptionist desk, her entire demeanor radiating displeasure.   
  
"Please leave."   
  
"I— Elep?"   
  
"Please leave, Raven."   
  
"I have a responsibility to Emrys, Elep! I can't just leave," Raven replied.   
  
The Twi'lek crossed the short distance, her lekku stiff with disapproval. She pushed her purple-toned face into Raven's, the human taking an instinctive step backwards. However, Elep didn't step down, her face still hovering centimeters from the Knight's. "You simple-minded fool," she hissed between her teeth. "That little boy is in that bed because you made a bad decision. You will accomplish nothing by staying here except to grate on my nerves, which are already thin enough. Your responsibility to that boy will be best served by making sure Nat doesn't come near him or any other Jedi not capable of defending himself against him. In the meantime, I don't want you here because your single-mindedness won't be useful to me or to Emrys. Please leave."   
  
"As you say, Elep," Raven replied quietly, slowly moving away and around the Healer. Hurt and confusion reigned within her, as well as the sting of the truth of her words. She was both single-minded and a fool. She should have seen this coming, especially as Nat's own partner. "As you say."   
  
***   
  
Her world had burned to ashes before her very eyes.   
  
Raven stumbled from the infirmary, her legs shaking beneath her. Coherent thought seemed beyond her at the moment, her thoughts scattered within her mind like leaves danced on a sudden wind. The only thing she knew for certain was that Elep's words were true, that she was a fool in many ways. Her words had stung with the certainty of truth, and that truth existed because Raven had made a grievous error.   
  
The Knight stumbled into the wall on the opposite side of the hall, smashing yet again her wounded shoulder, although Raven didn't even notice the bloom of pain. Instead, she slid, braced against the wall, to the floor, twisting to lie on her back viewing the ceiling. The light banks within the ceiling had been dimmed to reflect nightfall beyond the Temple walls, and Raven raised her hands to her eyes to shield even that mild light, light which reminded her painfully of its antithesis. Light that burned within her in the form of guilt.   
  
She wasn't at all surprised to feel dampness on her cheeks. Raven moved her hands away, inspecting the shimmer of the tears on her fingers for a moment, as if they contained the secret to undoing her mess. Long moments passed before she realized she was being silly and childish. Raven rolled away from the way and found her feet beneath her, standing still a bit unsteadily.   
  
Raven struggled within herself, drawing together the last shreds of her Jedi training. She squared her shoulders, standing as straight as the Temple Spire itself, and drew a deep breath, using the simplest methods taught to a padawan to calm herself. Her moment lacking discipline passed, Raven moved down the hallway, her steps gaining more confidence as she went.   
  
Only a little more time had passed before Raven was standing in front of Nat's door. She stood quietly for a moment, her Intelligence training taking over, listening beyond and reaching out with the Force. The Jedi Knight knew for certain that he wasn't in his rooms. Passing her hand over the keypad, Raven discerned the entrance code and opened his door.   
  
His rooms looked like any other Jedi's rooms, with a few data pads on the kitchen table, a small couch for reading or studying, and a hallway with a refresher and a bedroom. Raven ignored everything but his bedroom. She entered it, located one of Nat's tunics, and picked it up, using it to help focus her concentration. Like other personal items, the tunic was infused with Nat's very essence, the mystic quintessence that gave a person his Force signature. Using that and her own, now diminutive bond with her partner, Raven reached out for him.   
  
Her mind brushed his, but Nat shied away from her. Raven could sense a deluge of emotions from him even in that brief contact; fear of what he had done, ambition to be greater, a lust for power, anger at being denied. Defiance raged within him, as well as conflict. The Jedi Knight reached out further, having a prolonged enough touch with her partner to understand the reason for the conflict. He seemed caught between regret for attacking Emrys and regret for not just finishing his attack. Apparently, Nat had not completely turned but was caught between his desire for power and giving into his anger and frustration and his lifetime of training.   
  
Then he pulled away. The only thing left was a mental oily residue, a faint haze of the slime she had felt earlier during their brief encounter. Whatever he had done, Nathaniel Younam had cloaked himself in the Dark Side, beyond Raven's limited perception. Focusing as hard as she could, Raven could not find his trace in the Force. He had disappeared from her for now.   
  
The exertion of searching for Nat drew on the last reserves of Raven's considerable strength and discipline, and she sagged to the floor, his tunic still clutched in her hand. Taking a moment to regain her breath and some semblance of energy, Raven rested on the floor. The room spun around her briefly, and Raven's vision clouded into gray. She waited until her vision cleared and carefully got to her feet, aware of her handicap.   
  
The Jedi Knight left her partner's rooms and made her way carefully and slowly to her own. Her instincts, ones that had kept her alive so far, told her that Nat would be licking his wounds and planning for the evening, and the Temple would be safe at least until morning, although Raven privately suspected he would remain inconspicuous until around dinnertime the next day, after the tournament. Sleep overtook her, and the last thought that the Jedi could remember was that she hoped Emrys could forgive her for needing to rest, and that he himself was sleeping well.   
  
***   
  
Raven was awake early the next morning, her face showing determination and control. She found some clean clothes and pulled them on after discarding the garments she had worn and slept in the day before. Raven also found a handkerchief, a light tan, to restrain her dark hair. There would be no time this morning to shower and contain it otherwise.   
  
Gently and methodically, Raven began to roll out her muscles, taking forty-five minutes to completely loosen herself up for the tournament. After her warm-up, she then went in search of her errant partner with plans to spend the entire day with him, except for when she was on the floor to spar.   
  
He wasn't too difficult to locate. Raven could hear him shuffling around in his rooms. She sat directly across from his door, attempting to meditate while she waited for him to appear.   
  
Perhaps ten minutes later, Nathaniel reappeared from his rooms and glanced down at Raven in surprise and then shame. "Ven, I –" he began to say.   
  
Raven cut him off. "I don't want to hear it," she replied curtly, moving fluidly to her feet. "That will not happen again."   
  
"I know," Nat replied, pulling his door closed behind him. "Ven, I'm leaving the Temple. Today. After I compete in the tournament. I'm not meant to be here."   
  
Her face showing her shock, Raven shook her head for a moment. "Did you say what I just think you said? You attacked an initiate last night, Nat! You can't just leave! There are repercussions!"   
  
"You don't think I know that?" he cried back. Abruptly he turned away, his arms crossed and his eyes distant. "I know what I did when I lost my temper, Raven. That's why I have to leave. I don't trust myself not to do it again. I have to find my destiny elsewhere."   
  
The dark-haired Jedi swallowed, trying to decide what she should do. A small voice in her warned her about what he was saying, but her loyalty spoke stronger. "Where will you go?" she asked, reasoning that the day was young, and she would escort him throughout.   
  
He shrugged. "I don't know. Away from here." The blond Jedi glanced at his partner, noticing some of her hesitation. "Raven, believe me. Just give me today. By tonight, I will be gone, never to hurt anyone here again. You'll never see me again, and you can tell that to that initiate with equal conviction. Just give me until tonight," he pleaded.   
  
Raven glanced at him, remembering all the times he had saved her life in the field, crushing her small doubt. "All right. Today," she acquiesced reluctantly. "But then you disappear."   
  
"You'll never hear from me again." 


	5. Preparing for Battle

Feedback is thoroughly welcomed, there's a nice little "Add review" button at the bottom. ;) Thanks to George for creating this world in the first place and not taking pleasure in hunting us fan-fic-ers down for money.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~   
_Preparing for Battle_   
  
Trust.   
  
The entire existence at the Jedi Temple was built on such a notion. The parents, when first releasing their children to be Jedi, trusted the Order that this was in their child's best interest, that the child would be well cared for and taught. Initiates trusted that their teachers and mentors were teaching them to the best of their ability. They trusted that they were in good hands and that those hands would keep them safe. Older initiates trusted that a Master would choose them and choose wisely, or, if that fate were not in their destinies, the best path would be chosen. Padawans trusted that their masters had their best interest at heart, and that their master would fulfill their duty, protecting a padawan to the death. They also trust that the master would be able to complete, in its entirety, their training. Once a Knight and later a Master, Jedi trusted that the assignments given would be within their capacity, and if one decided to take a padawan, that the padawan would listen and obey, for it might make the difference between life and death.   
  
Raven watched as a pair of Jedi Knights and padawans, roughly her size, sparred on the floor, although her mind was not on the fight. She was thinking of the situation she seemed to have tumbled into. The competition for the younger initiates had already come and gone, and Emrys had not made an appearance. The absence of the gentle, unsure initiate had brought a lump to her throat, and briefly Raven had been tempted to check on him. However, Elep's harsh words and her own vow to remain near Nat had kept her away.   
  
It immensely bothered the young Knight that Emrys had lost faith in her due to Nat. Her own partner's betrayal didn't seem quite so important, quite so imperative when compared to what Emrys must have felt and gone through. She would survive in any case. It was in her nature. The question was, what kind of damage had been done to the shy initiate due to Nat.   
  
Raven shook her head, pushing the thought away. That could be dealt with in due time. Her first priority was to see Nat out of the Temple, never to return. He had promised her.   
  
A quiet snort emitted from her lips, and Raven knew that she was being naïve. She did truly believe that he would leave the Temple quietly and not return, although the reason behind it being that he would no longer be in trouble. It would be ludicrous for the Council to hunt down an errant Jedi for one instance of using the Dark Side merely to drag him back for a reprimand. The Council would be content merely to bid him adieu and hope for the best, or at least for Nat not to cause trouble.   
  
That thought unsettled her. Nat had always been ambitious to a fault, desiring to be the best in all things, classes, sparrings, meditations. His master had attempted to cure him of it but obviously had failed, whether he was aware of the failure or not.   
  
Raven sensed Nat shift, and she glanced at him. His blond hair was tousled and his face set. She searched the blue eyes as well as she could from that angle, not sure what she was looking for. They were cold and hard, watching something beyond the spar that was taking place on the floor. Then, suddenly, he gave himself a slight shake and came back, turning to look at Raven as though he sensed her gaze.   
  
White on purple. The two blades hissed between them, although Raven could see through them, knowing that they were just a vision, some shadow of what could be. They were gone in an instant, and Nat was no longer looking at her, instead out at the arena where the final match of her weight class had ended, an older padawan that Raven didn't recognize the victor.   
  
The victor was announced, and Raven didn't recognize the name either. Initiates rushed out onto the floor to wipe up sweat pools from the hard mats. The next pair to spar was announced, Raven and a Jedi whose name she didn't know but appeared familiar. Given Nat a stern warning glance, she walked out on to the floor, letting the thoughts of him and that situation drift away. It would take all of her concentration to compete well, being out-weighted by all in this class.   
  
***   
  
"Jedi, present yourselves."   
  
Raven moved from the sidelines to the center of the arena slowly and stately, her head held high and her formal robes weighing down on her as she began to prepare herself for the spar ahead. This was a ritual, an honor to compete in order to hone one's abilities and better serve the Order. This was tradition, something done time out of mind, from the beginnings of the Jedi Order.   
  
Approaching her from the opposite direction was a Chalactan, a humanoid species with characteristically dark hair and skin. He was an attractive male, being around two meters tall, and lithe, as were most Jedi. His eyes were dark and considering. Raven watched him as he approached, trying to get a base for the kind of fighter he was. She knew he was doing the same. They stopped when they were about four meters apart from each other on the floor.   
  
"Prepare to battle."   
  
Raven stripped off her dark brown outer robe, tossing it to the side where an initiate cleared it away. She also pulled off her tabard and tunics, stripping down to only a tank top and her leggings with her utility belt hugging her hips, in addition to her boots. The Chalactan was wearing no shirt at all, only his leggings, utility belt, and boots. Although it was highly unlikely that such courtesy would be given in the field, this was a symbol of a clean fight. Nothing would be used besides the Jedi's lightsaber. It was a battle of the talent in that, as well as focus and connection to the Force. Only self, saber, and opponent.   
  
Raven looked across to her opponent and gave him an almost imperceptible nod. He returned the gesture, and they both raised their sabers to their foreheads, saluting one another. "May the Force be with you both," the announcer intoned, signaling the beginning of the match.   
  
The Chalactan and Raven circled each other, trying to goad the other into making the first move. Neither had ignited their blades as of yet, but that was merely a matter of time. As they moved around in another circle, Raven was dimly aware of the crowd's cheers and the slow fading of them. Smiling faintly to herself, she rushed the Chalactan, activating her saber to give a low slash aimed at his calves.   
  
Not surprisingly, the Chalactan jumped, flipping over her head to drop down behind her. Raven turned, using the momentum from her rush, and blocked his attack, a slash aimed about chest level. Her arms tingled slightly from the force of the impact, but Raven moved out of range for a moment, taking pains to control her breathing.   
  
The Chalactan remained out of range, a faint smile on his own dark features. Raven returned the expression, twirling her saber in her hand as a pseudo-nervous gesture. Inwardly, she was completely calm, on a warrior's high, curious as to the outcome of the match. Baring her teeth as an indicator, she feigned at hit to his side, switching from left to right as he moved to block her slash. It didn't work, however; he sensed her shift from the left and parried her slash, although his features spoke of respect.   
  
He moved to score a hit on her, but Raven twisted out of the way, managing to score a burn on his shoulder as he moved beyond her. She watched as shock registered on his face before it was quickly schooled away. Suddenly, she understood. He had guessed that this would be an easy victor, since Raven was out of her class. He didn't look to be any older than her, perhaps a number of years younger than she, which made his mistake make sense.   
  
Raven flipped over him, moving to a fierce offensive. If she kept him on the defensive before he could remedy his misjudgment, it would be a quick victory for her, which would make the subsequent spars easier for her. He parried every hit she tried to place, but it soon became evident that he was having difficulty keeping up with her. She scored another burn on his forearm and one on his side. The Chalactan placed one on her stomach and failed to lay another on her arm. Raven twisted from that misplaced slice, ducked down, and brought her saber into a wide, low sweep. The Chalactan fell into the trap. As he jumped, she moved the slash into a feign, bringing it up and tight to herself, to score the game point on his chest, deactivating her saber as she mock-ran him through, her hilt hitting his chest solidly. He fell heavily on his back, staring dazedly at the ceiling.   
  
Raven clipped her hilt to her utility belt and reached down to help the Chalactan to his feet. He shook his head and grinned in admiration. "You've got a lot of punch to you for such a small thing," he commented over the roar of the spectators. The announcer proclaimed her the victor after the mediators had verified it.   
  
The dark-haired Knight returned the grin and winked at him. "Don't trust your senses," she replied, "for they will deceive you. Didn't Master Yoda ever tell you that?"   
  
"Don't get me started on the little troll!" he exclaimed. The Chalactan shook his head again, laughing. Then, he saluted her with his saber hilt. She returned the gesture, and they parted ways to head back to their respective sides of the arena as the announcer called the next pair to the floor.   
  
***   
  
Raven watched the next few matches, taking mental notes on the style and preferences of each of the victors. Since the pairings for the next round were randomly chosen, she didn't know against whom she would compete, so she decided to be prepared in any case. Nat, ironically, was paired against Mace Windu, and he defeated the young Council member after a strenuous spar.   
  
The young, undersized Jedi won her next two spars as well, securing herself a spot in the final round. Raven was rather pleased with her status as either winner or runner-up in this weight class. While the last round before the final was going on, Nat against a Nikto that she didn't recognize, Raven drifted away from the spar to find something light to eat.   
  
The hallway was quiet after the roar of the crowd in the arena. Raven guessed that almost every Jedi between the ages of six and the upper ends of its species lifespan who was currently residing in the Temple was crowded in there, with the exception of the kitchen and infirmary staff. Some Healers were in the arena in case of injury, of course. The Jedi Knight smiled. The Council spars would be later that night, an event looked forward to by all Jedi who did not sit on the revered board.   
  
Raven rounded the corner and nearly ran into Elep, whose lekku were twitching nervously, strangely stiff down her back. "Raven!" she exclaimed, grabbing the Knight's arm, "I've been looking for you. Emrys isn't doing well."   
  
The dark-haired Jedi blinked for a moment, all coherent thought paused, and then she shook her head to clear it. "Isn't doing well? What do you mean?"   
  
Elep shrugged, managing to look sheepish. "I checked on him this morning to see if he slept well. He was fine then, although not very talkative and wouldn't even discuss what happened yesterday. I wasn't on duty, so I left to fetch him some breakfast from the cafeteria. I was gone maybe fifteen, twenty minutes, and when I got back, another Healer was in his room taking his temperature and checking his pulse. I was told he had a panic attack. His heartbeat skyrocketed, and he was having trouble breathing."   
  
"How is he now?"   
  
"We had to sedate him before he hurt himself or passed out from lack of oxygen. He's sleeping well now, although we don't know what will happen when he wakes," Elep said professionally, not meeting Raven's eyes.   
  
The Knight swallowed, considering what her friend had said. "What aren't you telling me?" she asked finally, searching the Twi'lek's averted eyes.   
  
Elep looked at Raven. "We don't know what's wrong. If we don't know what's wrong, we can't help Emrys. That means he may need to be sedated for a long time, at best."   
  
"At best? Elep…" From the arena, the Knight and the Healer hear the echo from the announcer calling for the final spar. Raven shook her head, obviously torn.   
  
Elep sighed, correctly interpreting that gesture. "Go fight your battle, Raven. Emrys will still be there when you are finished. I can't believe you made it to the final round."   
  
"You're sure he'll be fine?" Raven searched her friend's face with concern.   
  
"Of course he will. Best of luck, Raven. May the Force be with you."   
  
Raven smiled in returned, recognizing the attempt to make up for her harsh words the night before. "All right. Thanks, Elep. It means a lot to me."   
  
***   
  
Banishing all thoughts of Emrys from her mind for the moment, Raven walked back into the arena, suddenly very conscious of all of the people in the stands. The dark-haired Jedi shook her head, clearing it of the stray thoughts, and focused on her upcoming spar. She moved across the floor fluidly and when she brought her eyes to her opponent, Raven was mildly surprised, although not as much as she expected to be, to see Nat standing across from her. Both were already stripped for the spar.   
  
Their names announced, the two Jedi approached each other on the mat. Respectfully, they bowed to one another, also saluting with their saber hilts, then moved back six paces. Twin snap-hisses echoed across the arena as it fell unnaturally silent. Raven could see determination glinting in Nat's eyes.   
  
He rushed her, trying to use his larger bulk to faze her. Raven dropped into a defensive position, blocking his hit. Nat drove her back a few steps, and then she slashed at him across the torso, trying to get a feel for his style and reflexes. It was strange, to think she had fought by his side for more than a year, but she had never paid much attention to his style. The thought drifted away, forgotten. He parried it easily as she suspected, returning it in kind with a blow aimed at her knees.   
  
Raven leapt, using the Force to carry herself over his head. She landed and dropped into a crouch, scoring a hit on his shin as he turned. His saber arced down towards her, leaving her barely enough time to block what probably would have amounted to a kill point.   
  
Nat followed through on the parried hit, using his momentum to add force to his next blow. However, Raven kicked out one foot, sweeping it into his ankles. The larger knight crashed to the mat, knocked off balance between her sweep and his own swing. Raven rolled out of the way and jumped to her feet.   
  
By the time she had regained her footing, Nat was already upon her, his purple blade aiming for her torso in a jab. Raven parried it, deflecting his blade harmlessly to her right. She made a high swing, once again blocked by Nat. He deflected it as well, scoring his own hit on her non-saber arm.   
  
Sweat poured down her back as they continued to fight. Her long, dark hair clung damply to her neck, and Raven could feel beads of sweat collecting on her brow, dripping down to sting her eyes. Nat's blond hair had turned darker from his own sweat, and Raven could see perspiration on his upper lip. Still, they battle on in the unnaturally quiet arena, which seemed to be holding its breath for the outcome between them.   
  
Nat slashed at her, finding his purple blade parried by her white. Raven lost the number of times their blades crashed together, hissing evilly. She felt her muscles begin to tire as they went in endless rounds of parrying and hitting, driving back and pushing forward, burn returned for burn. He began to show fatigue in his face, as his moves slowed in time.   
  
Raven knew that this would probably be her only chance. Gathering the remnants of her energy, she dropped back a few steps, feigning a slash to his side. He followed through to block, but Raven had turned, sidestepping the other direction. Her move earned her a substantial burn, which threw Nat out of his fighting group long enough for her crouch down and make one last sweep. He only stumbled, catching himself on his saber hand. The saber slipped out between his hand and the mat. Using her boot, Raven knocked him over the rest of the way, scoring her kill point.   
  
She deactivated her saber and reached down to help Nat up. He shook his head, his eyes showing wonder and pride and – was it resignation? – and then it hit her. Raven had won. Nat grinned at her as the crowd began to scream jubilantly She couldn't believe that she had won! A smile spread across her own features, but when she looked back at Nat, the smile faded.   
  
The noise of the crowd dimmed as she focused on him. His face had become blank, his gaze somewhere beyond the walls of the large arena. An instinctive fear crept into her stomach, twisting it, and she approached Nat. "You have to leave now," she said quietly, although there was no room for disagreement in her tone. "You promised, and now you will hold good to that promise."   
  
"It's not evening," Nat replied, losing his absorbed look to glance at her.   
  
"I don't care," Raven replied, the steel in her voice palpable. "You are leaving. Now."   
  
***   
  
Nat followed her placidly into the hallway. They walked side by side in a stony silence, Raven's face set and determined. They made their way down a number of floors toward one of the side entrances to the Temple and were about halfway there when suddenly Nathaniel stopped. "I have a few things I need from my room."   
  
Raven turned to face him, her lips compressed into a thin line. "It would be better if you left now," she said coolly, her green eyes meeting his blue levelly.   
  
He spread his arms out disarmingly. "A spare change of clothes? Some food? Some water? A few credits? I'm not asking for a moon," he replied slowly.   
  
Raven glowered at him for a moment before shaking her head. "You must be away. Be thankful I don't just turn you over to the Council out of hand at this point," she replied. Nat bowed his head for a moment in acquiescence. Raven turned to move on down the hallway.   
  
Nat was upon her in an instant, twisting her right arm painfully behind her and pinning her left arm with his. He applied pressure on her right arm, forcing Raven onto her toes as the muscles and bones in that arm protested. Her breath hissed through her teeth in pain. Nat hefted her, applying even more pressure to her arm, and began to hurriedly drag her out of the open space of the hallway. "I don't appreciate it when you bare your teeth at me," he whispered in her ear.   
  
Raven kicked behind her, trying to find purchase on him. He avoided her, easily keeping her lined up with her torso, her legs uselessly swinging between his. Instead, she struggled, trying to loosen his grip to she could reach her light saber even with her left hand, although it was at her right hip, easily accessible to her saber hand.   
  
Growling menacingly, he pulled her from the main hallway through a smaller doorframe. As they passed through, Raven set her boots to the frame and braced herself, shoving backwards as hard as she could. Nat reeled back, slamming into the wall on the opposite side but still managed to retain his grip. "You will regret that," he spat. Nat turned her and rammed her into the doorframe, stunning the Knight momentarily, as they moved through it into the smaller corridor.   
  
Nat felt her relax a little in his arms, and he knew that the fight, at least momentarily, had gone out of her. "I have every intention of leaving," he informed her, "but first I want to get a few of my things from my room. If you had just listened to me in the first place, we wouldn't be having this difficulty now."   
  
"No difficulty at all," Raven grunted in reply as she resumed her struggle.   
  
"I don't think you understand," he said dangerously, giving Raven a fierce shake. She stilled, sensing that his next words would be of great import. "Obviously you care very little for your own life, but I have taken my own precautions against others for whom you care in this Temple. Defiance may have regrettable consequences, my dear Raven."   
  
"False words are created easily enough," Raven shot back.   
  
Fury crossed his face, and he threw Raven down hard enough to send her sliding across the tile floor and have her hit solidly against the opposite wall. She slumped from the force of the impact, slowly gathering her hands beneath her to lift herself up.   
  
Nat reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling her up before she had the chance to recover. "I suppose you'll find out the truth of them soon enough," he replied. The last thing Raven felt before succumbing to darkness was the fiery pain of his palm impacting against her jaw. 


	6. Buckling Serenity

See other chapters for commentary, disclaimers, etc.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
_Buckling Serenity_   
  
Slowly Raven became aware of the great pain that seemed to exist in every part of her body. Her arms and legs ached, her back was sore, and her face hurt beyond words, especially her jaw, which bloomed with more fiery agony when she moved it. The Jedi became aware of the tile beneath her cheek, warm from her own body heat. She was lying on her stomach, her dark hair streamed all around her head carelessly, blocking her view. A cough escaped from her lips, sounding very feeble to her own ears, and then she felt dampness on her lips.   
  
Extracting a hand from somewhere below her, Raven ran her fingers along her mouth, feeling something warm and sticky there. Pulling her hand back to look at it, she saw a red, sticky substance on them. Gently, the Jedi rubbed her fingers together. Blood. There was blood on her hands and in her mouth.   
  
Raven stood swiftly, despite the protest from her mind, all of the past events coming to her with startling clarity. Then, her vision swam, clouded by gray nothingness. She felt light-headed and nauseous, proceeding to half-fall, half-lower herself back to the floor. The metallic taste of blood was now in her mouth, part of her awareness, as she attempted not to pass out again. Her head was tucked between her legs as she was braced against the wall, her legs bent before her. The Jedi Knight felt completely helpless.   
  
Not sure how long she sat there, her hands on her forehead, inadvertently smearing her own blood in her hair, sitting in a small pool of it as well, Raven tried to piece back together her fragmented thoughts. She knew that Nat was long since gone, regardless of how little time might have passed with her incapacitated on the floor. He would have taken his advantage, gathered whatever it was that he wanted from his rooms, and escaped with all haste.   
  
Raven ran her fingers along the side of her face at her jaw line, feeling the swollen and tender skin. It was probably bruised, a nice purple blotch on the side of her face to remind her, at least for a while, of her epic last encounter with her partner. Carefully she stood for the second time, leaning against the wall for the dizziness to subside. It was neither as strong nor as lasting, so Raven was soon on her way down the hall.   
  
Discovering that moving quickly was hazardous to her shaky awareness, the Jedi Knight began to wonder what exactly Nat had done. Granted, he had hit her pretty soundly, but it didn't seem to merit this extensive of a reaction from her. Then again, with any sort of knowledge of medicine beyond Raven's very limited store could make it easy for him to feed her something. Sighing in annoyance – he knew her every flaw and limitation! – Raven promised herself to ask Elep, as well as regretting the sigh. Her world seemed very unstable at the moment.   
  
A padawan was walking down the main hallway. He stopped at the sight of her, looking quite surprised and very concerned. "Are you all right?" he asked. Raven glanced at him, the quick turn of her head making her vision swim again. Suddenly, she felt entirely too warm. Her thoughts scattered as she tried to formulate a coherent response. Instead, the Knight found herself on her knees, the padawan towering over her, helping her to lie on the floor. He was shouting something, but the words didn't make sense. But it no longer seemed important.   
  
***   
  
"What do you mean, he's gone? A Jedi Knight can't go around accosting people The Council is not dealing with it as they should."   
  
Elep shrugged helplessly, obviously agreeing with the Jedi Master, even though she didn't verbalize it. "I don't know what to tell you, Master Shioc," she replied. A groan came from the infirmary cot where Raven lay, still unconscious and obviously in discomfort. Both women glanced at the cot, and Elep moved to place a cool hand against her friend's forehead, as well as check her pulse.   
  
"What did you say she ate?" Daré asked in clipped tones. Fear and concern could be heard in the master's voice, although she tried to hide the emotions.   
  
"It was fenna. We keep it in the infirmary in packets because it helps to subdue patients. Kind of like an anesthetic that calms and dulls the pain for emergency situations such as transporting someone here. The scent is enough to take the hysterical edge off someone and allow for the Healers to deal with him. It can be fatal if it's ingested, even small amounts. That would explain the disorientation that Aidan described. I can't help but wonder where she was before he found her."   
  
"And the Council sits on their good-for-nothing asses," Daré spat back. "She could be dead by now if she hadn't staggered from wherever it was that he dragged her only to be found by some hapless padawan. Now, that bastard is gone while Raven is here, sick as a bantha, running amuck on the streets of Coruscant."   
  
Elep sighed. "Calm yourself. Getting angry will do nothing except invoke the sacred sayings of Yoda," the Twi'lek replied, a wry grin twitching at the corners of her mouth.   
  
The Jedi Master growled quietly, her displeasure plain. "That doesn't change the fact that Nathaniel will have had enough time to go to the Outer Rim and back before the Council decides to investigate the case. And speaking of things that the Council won't discuss, how is Emrys? Any change?"   
  
One of Elep's lekku twitched in a noncommittal gesture, although her face remained blank. "He hasn't changed. If we take him off the sedatives, his heartbeat shoots to dangerous levels, and he hyperventilates. He's completely unresponsive at this point, though. I'm afraid he's slowly slipping away."   
  
Daré exhaled slowly, putting her hands in her sleeves in a familiar gesture. "Then I suppose all we can do is wait," she replied finally. "Maybe Raven can help him. Or maybe this is the will of the Force."   
  
The Healer shivered at Daré's cool, calm voice. "You know, I think I like you better when you are screaming and irate," Elep said, looking at Raven. She glanced to her master, who merely smiled an enigmatic smile. "So why don't you talk to the Council? Your word holds great weight among them."   
  
"I will, in good time, my dear Elep," Master Shioc replied, her smile becoming more of a baring of teeth. "The Council knows I have claws which I am not afraid to show. Besides, I wouldn't want them to start judging people by outward appearances. The smaller I am, the harder I rake with them. They swear I am Corellian."   
  
Elep chuckled. "I'm sure you are, Master Shioc. I'm sure you are." The red-haired Jedi bowed to the Twi'lek, taking her leave, and Elep returned the gesture. Then, she sat down in a chair near the end of Raven's bed to watch and wait.   
  
***   
  
For the second time, Raven awoke with agony. Her head ached, as well as her middle. Dimly, she was aware of the bedding over her, a sheet and a blanket, that seemed twisted around her arms and legs. She shifted, attempting to untangle herself, only to discover that that minor attempt left her feeling weak. The Jedi Knight felt more vulnerable than she could ever remember feeling. Taking her time, she worked to untangle the bedding from her. Something nagged at the back of her awareness, something that demanded immediate attention.   
  
The floor was cold against her feet, but Raven ignored it. She was grateful to discover that the nausea that had accompanied her previous attempt at movement was gone, and the dark-haired Jedi made her way down to the end of the bed and across the room to the hallway. Leaning against the door jam for a moment to collect her breath and her thoughts, she peered out. The hall was empty, with only a few open doors marking differences in the hall.   
  
Raven moved beyond her own room. She decided to see if Elep was on duty, figuring that she had no better ideas. However, once she was about halfway down the hall, Raven was out of breath and not as confident that this was the best decision. Elep's appearance in the hallway saved the Jedi the effort of making a decision of whether to press on or go back to her room.   
  
The Healer's reaction was rather predictable, Raven had to admit, when Elep promptly yelled at her. "Get back to your room! Do you think it was easy to bring you back to the land of the living?" The Twi'lek gestured in annoyance, pointing towards Raven's room.   
  
Raven cringed, the shout echoing painfully within her head. "Send me back to wherever I was," she moaned in response, a bit melodramatically. Elep sighed eloquently in frustration and sidled up next to Raven, slipping her arm underneath her friend's to help support the Knight. "Why am I so weak, Elep?" she asked the Healer, a note of fear in her voice. "I was in prime condition just yesterday."   
  
The pair moved back along the hallway as Elep tossed her friend a slightly amused look. "Your shoulder was injured, and that was four days ago." As impassive as Raven's face remained, her shock was betrayed by a stumble that, if it weren't for Elep's arm, would have sent her crashing to the floor.   
  
"Four days?" Raven's knees buckled beneath her, and Elep held her from hitting the tiles. Carefully, the Healer eased her back to her feet.   
  
"That's why you're so weak," Elep explained. "You haven't had solid food since the tournament, and you were hell bent on ripping out your IV every time we tried to place one in your arm, even when you were unconscious. You have the marks on your arms to prove it. The tournament was four days ago, and much has happened since then. Your master has been giving the Council her wrath. Nat is gone."   
  
They arrived back at Raven's room, where Elep deposited her on the infirmary bed, finding a blanket to drape over her shoulders. Raven drew her legs up to sit cross-legged as her friend perched on the end of the bed. "I knew Nat would be gone," she shrugged slightly, pulling the blanket closer to herself, "but at least he is gone now. That is a taint the Temple can live without." A ghost of a grin appeared around her lips, a hopeful light appearing in her eyes. "How is Emrys?"   
  
Elep's expression altered slightly, and she shifted to stand, her arms crossed before her. The Healer took a deep breath, and Raven watched as her features smoothed. Her lekku twitched a little before stilling against her back. "Elep? What's wrong?" Raven asked, her tone pressing for information. Fear settled itself into a knot in her stomach, and she knew what the answer would be.   
  
"Ven," Elep said slowly, turning to look her friend in the eye, "Emrys has become one with the Force. He left us two nights ago, slipped away without us hardly noticed. One moment, he was breathing calmly, his heartbeat steady, and then…" She spread her arms apart then dropped them to her sides. The Healer didn't continue; she didn't have to. There were no words, really.   
  
Raven broke Elep's gaze to look at some indeterminate point on the blanket that was on her bed. Amorphous thoughts formed in her mind, splintered images of the little boy who had been so concerned about learning to fight, the look of terror on his face, emotions that came to mind about him. It was strange, since Raven had known him so little time, but she felt akin to the uncertainty that had plagued him. His fears had been her own, and she had loved him for it, for having the courage to face them. And that boy was now gone, a causality to a war he hadn't even been asked to participate in. Raven swallowed, seeing his face again, his light brown hair and incredibly deep, liquid brown eyes, feeling a lump in her throat.   
  
"Raven…" Elep said hesitantly, reaching out to touch the Jedi Knight.   
  
She moved away. "Go away," Raven replied quietly. "Please go away." Elep moved a little, indecision clear on her face. Then, the Knight turned to the Healer, her eyes blazing with anger, but moreso with grief, and yelled with all her strength, "**GO! Leave me alone!**" With a sad shake of her head, the Healer left, and Raven drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and burying her head, her whole bodying shaking.   
  
***   
  
Raven was aware of the profound silence that seemed to hang in her small room. She pulled the blanket more onto her shoulders, distractedly, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. The Jedi knew she needed something to ground her back in reality, to pull her away from her reeling emotions, but there was nothing at the moment. Her world seemed to have come crashing down around her in a matter of days. An initiate that she had taken under her wing lay dead by her partner, who had fled the Temple because of his underhanded dealings.   
  
Guilt struck her with full force as she remembered Elep's warning about Nathaniel. She had sensed it, seen the trouble he would cause on some level, and she had known that he would leave pain in his wake. But Raven, someone who should have known him exceedingly well, hadn't sensed it at all, defending him until he had betrayed Emrys at the advantage she had given him!   
  
Some Jedi she was. To defend peace and justice in the galaxy was her call, but as far as the dark-haired woman could tell, she had done little to facilitate that. Her blundering had only set that goal back, allowing one soul to die and another tainted one to wreck his whims upon the galaxy.   
  
Raven shifted, wrapping the blanket around her torso, draping around her like her cloak, and lying on her side, facing the wall. The Jedi closed her eyes, feeling pain wash over her to mingle with the guilt. All she could see was his face, the look of uncertainty and fear that had crossed his face when he confessed that he was afraid of being a failure. Then, it was superimposed over his look of unadulterated fear as Nat advanced on him.   
  
_I tried to save you, but it wasn't enough._   
  
A lump came to her throat again, and Raven felt her eyes tear beneath her eyelids. They fluttered open, the green marred by the liquid that gathered along her lower eyelashes until they could hold no more, splattering down her face and across the bridge of her nose, where they hung before falling to the bed covers.   
  
Time passed, and Raven lay motionless on the bed. Her eyes were half-closed, focused on nothing that was visible within the room. In her mind, and in her heart, she was recording everything she could of Emrys Teve, every look he had given her, every emotion she had sensed from him, every expression and word he had given her, his stances in fighting, his vocal inflections. Every nuance that made Emrys what he had been, the kind of person he was, she burned it into her memory and onto her heart. Raven vowed to herself that no other Jedi would die at her hand, and that vow came from her even more solemn promise to honor the memory of that little brown-haired, brown-eyed boy who had trusted her.   
  
Something within her changed as she worked to emblazon his memory into hers, and she felt herself grow older, having learned something, although she couldn't put the specifics into words. Her responsibilities were often things she didn't even consider, and every move she made held countless implications for those around her. Her actions had effects which she had to consider, moves to plot and ripples to plan for.   
  
Raven also instinctively knew that it would be a long time before she could speak the name of Emrys Teve again. His memory was locked safe within her, and it was a deep and difficult wound, one that would not heal well or swiftly. His life was a steep price to have paid for what lesson she was to have learned from this. But it was a mistake she had no intentions of repeating.   
  
_Not again_, she avowed to herself, _I will protect my kindred, individuals who are my family, those that I love, even if my own life is necessary. I will not let another die if it is within my power to save him_   
  
***   
  
The days slid into weeks as Elep kept a careful eye on her friend. Raven, after the initial shock, seemed to take Emrys death surprisingly well, although the Healer privately suspected that it was at least partially an act. Her friend had grown quiet since the death of the initiate, something that Elep hadn't noticed before. Raven was usually quick to remark on something, even were the remark scathing, but now she hesitated, seeming to consider every word, every movement. The Jedi was more cautious now, and for some reason it make Elep somewhat nervous.   
  
The weeks also brought ongoing wars between Daré and her friends on the Council. The Jedi Master made it her personal mission to make them discuss what had occurred with Nathaniel, but their philosophy seemed to remain that, given his absence, it was no longer an issue. Master Shioc pursued the Council doggedly for three solid weeks, devoting every spare moment to harassing them about the issue. Still, they wouldn't listen, citing strife in the Senate. It seemed the situation was merely going to collect dust, since the Council opined that there was no situation to begin with. At least, not any more.   
  
Still, the Healer knew that something was afoot. Occasionally, Elep would follow her friend, making sure she was all right, to see her go to one of the practice rooms, always the same one, and kneel. Unsure whether she was meditating, Elep watched the first time as her friend knelt in the empty room for nearly an hour, facing away from the mostly closed door. She sat completely motionless for that time, studying something that was beyond Elep's capacities to grasp.   
  
Daré eventually gave up on the Council. Elep noticed a marked difference in her, although it made more sense. Prone to bouts of seeing shadows of the future, the Jedi Master became brooding, always thoughtful. The Twi'lek presumed it had to do with the initiate whose ashes now lay in the Hall of Remembrance and her former padawan who trailed quietly through the Temple halls.   
  
And the halls were quiet. Elep observed Raven from afar, making sure that the Knight was really okay, as she put forth. She trailed her master to see what she could learn that way. She watched as Raven stood up straight, kept her eyes dry and her chin up. This display made Elep slightly afraid, that outwardly, Raven coped well.   
  
But every once in a while, the Healer would find her friend staring out over Coruscant from one of the large picture windows in the Temple, her cheek or her hand pressed against the glass. And although she couldn't say why, that frightened Elep most of all. 


	7. Impossible Bargains

The same disclaimers apply. Please give feedback. :)   
  
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_Impossible Bargains_   
  
"… were phased out of the regular training due to the fact they can't deflect more modern weapons such as blaster bolts. However, they can be useful in situations that are close combat, where blasters can only be used at point blank range. I've asked Knight Suul to assist me with this demonstration. Knight Suul?"   
  
Raven stepped forward, her quarterstaff held loosely in her hands. "This is a typical quarterstaff, roughly a palm's width taller than the height of the wielder. As you can see, it has been smoothed and covered with a sealant to keep it from warping in damp climates as well as making it more capable of absorbing bolts. The ends are slightly larger than the rest of the staff, making it easier to maneuver and giving it more weight. As Knight Ackro said, it was phased out of regular training due to its failings, and it is becoming more uncommon in the secondary weapons training."   
  
The initiates sat on the floor of the arena, most looking incredibly bored. All Jedi were required to have a proficiency in lightsaber and another weapon. It was the demonstration day of sorts, where the various weapons were presented for initiates to try out, eventually to make a decision on the subject. Raven glanced at Eavan who merely raised one eyebrow eloquently. Raven fingered the staff in her hand and made a small gesture with the other, indicating to him that she would strike. Perhaps a little shock would draw the initiates out of their reverie.   
  
She snapped the end of the staff from the floor to the heel of her hand, using that point to lever it towards Eavan. A thrust of her arm shot the other heavy end towards his stomach. The red-haired Jedi deflected it away with a deft sweep, attempting to make a thrust of his own. Raven side-stepped, twirling her staff between her hands. She could sense the unwavering attention of the initiates and gave Eavan a small smile, her eyes glinting impishly.   
  
They fell into an easy rhythm of parries and dodges, spins and thrusts, a dance to show the advantages and disadvantages to the weapon. After what Raven judged to be about fifteen minutes, neither Knight gaining purchase on the other purposefully, she signaled him again, indicating that she meant to make one last major sweep on him, to end the round. Eavan nodded minutely. Raven made a final thrust, similar to the one she started the match with, but instead of merely propelling the staff with her palm, she grasped it, pulling the quarterstaff into a swing with the full force of her arm muscles behind it. Eavan dropped at the last moment, saving his skull from the impact, to the collective gasps of the initiates.   
  
"That would have been kill point," Raven said redundantly, since the expressions on the initiates faces made it obviously that they were aware of what just occurred. Dropping her staff, Raven helped Eavan back to his feet as he rubbed one of his ears ruefully.   
  
"I can still hear the whistle," he commented. "Thanks, Raven. Now, we have another example of weaponry, the glaive…"   
  
Raven picked up her quarterstaff, her part done, and began to collect her tabard and outer tunic, shed in anticipation of the exertion. When she stood from collecting her things from the floor, utterly forgotten by the initiates behind her in hopes of another demonstration, Raven became aware of the man standing in the doorway. As she approached him, he said, "You haven't been up to see me, Knight Suul."   
  
The dark-haired Jedi shrugged. "I still have a week's leave, sir," she replied deferentially. His face was noncommittal, but his temper, for a Jedi, was legendary. Raven was not sure what game he was playing, because she couldn't come up with a reason that he would approach her before her leave was over. Raven doubted that Forre would bring up Nat; that was Council's territory, a political minefield, as deplorable a job they were doing to take care of it. IntCorps didn't involve itself in such things. Its members merely collected data and ran missions requested of it. Politics weren't important enough to ask whys when risking Jedi lives, as Ruso saw it.   
  
"I know, Suul," he replied, his raptor face going blank. He indicated that she should follow him as he left the arena.   
  
***   
  
They walked together a few meters from the arena in silence as Raven pulled her tabard and tunic over her head. She adjusted her utility belt to rest over the beige garments. The Jedi Knight could sense her superior's attention, even though he wasn't directly watching her. She rubbed one of her fingers against the smooth surface.   
  
"What happened, Raven?" Ruso finally said, turning to look at his subordinate.   
  
She stopped walking as he did, looking down at the floor. "What's there to say, sir?" she replied, glancing at him. "I've already explained the situation to Master Windu. The Council wants nothing to do with the situation. It might as well not have occurred." Raven was startled by the use of her first name. The IntCorps was a structured group, of rules and protocol. Rules were followed, titles were used. That's just the way things work.   
  
"Damn the Council!" Ruso spat back. "I asked you what happened, not those Hutts upstairs."   
  
Raven's calm broke for a moment, her face flashing through pain and betrayal before becoming emotionless again. "What do you want me to tell you?" she returned, her voice breaking once. "What do you want me to say? You already know the story. The entire Temple knows the story. You've known me since I was apprenticed to my master. You handpicked me to serve on your IntCorps. You can read me better than anyone in the Temple save two," she stopped, shook her head, and gripped her quarterstaff until her knuckles turned white, "one. Save one."   
  
"And you thought the worst was over," Ruso sighed in response. Raven glanced at the shorter Jedi, her expression indicating that she understood what he meant. Her throat constricted, and her breaths became laborious. Her captain put a hand on her arm, searching her half-turned away face. "Raven, find someone to talk to about this. I know you're in agony, I can see it in your face."   
  
Raven shifted away from him, breaking the contact. "I will do my duty as a Jedi," she replied quietly. Then, she looked at him, her green eyes glinting as though burning from within. "But more than that, I will not allow another Jedi to die, if it is within my power to save him."   
  
Ruso's mouth worked for a moment as he considered what she said, but he could come up with no suitable response. After a few heartbeats, he turned away instead and began moving down the hallway again. The Jedi Knight followed, her quarterstaff clicking quietly on the tile as she used it as a walking stick.   
  
"I have four options that I can see," the IntCorps officer said after the silence had consumed a few minutes. "I can either reassign you to a new partner, move you to the Special Operations division where you can work solo, promote you to a supervising position, or dismiss you from the Intelligence Corps completely. As I see, the first and the last options are pretty much out of the question. What would you like me to do? I have to write the recommendation to be reviewed this afternoon."   
  
The shrug he received in response was noncommittal. "I trust your judgment," was the only reply Ruso received, Raven's voice flat and unwavering.   
  
"That, all things considered, is a miracle."   
  
***   
  
Once Raven had quit Ruso's presence, she went to her rooms. For the last few days, her mind had been filled with images and memories, thoughts that cascaded against each other without end. This morning, though, it had been as though all had been wiped away. Raven merely felt an emptiness, the acknowledgment that something that had existed within herself, perhaps trust, but more likely something larger than that, was gone.   
  
The Jedi Knight removed the loop from her hair which had held it back from her face during her spar with Eavan. She found a brush and ran it through her tresses, loosening them from her scalp. Then, she went into her bedroom and changed out of her sweaty things, into a sleeveless, white unitard, a garment that hugged to her from her ankles to her neck, as an undergarment and then a sleeveless tunic of thick, soft green fabric that fell to her ankles, divided on the sides for easier movement.   
  
She pulled her hair from the neck of her tunic, and it fell down her back, past her shoulder blades. Raven left her utility belt on her bed with her more traditional robes, taking with her only a candle.   
  
Raven left her rooms again, making her way quietly and barefooted through the hallways of the Temple towards the Hall of Remembrance. The halls en route seemed unnaturally quiet to Raven's ears, although she wasn't paying much attention to the journey. Then she found herself before the large doors leading to the Hall.   
  
The doors were large, towering over three meters from the floor. They were made of some kind of wood which had its origins on Coruscant before it had been completely covered. They had scrollwork around the inlayed panels which depicted Jedi lore; the funeral pyre, the scattering of ashes, the lighting of the eternal flame.   
  
Feeling infinitesimal, the Jedi Knight took a deep breath, placing her hand against the smooth wood of the door. She closed her eyes, absorbing the feel of the wood, the silence of the area, the cold of the tile on her feet, and then exhaled as she pushed open the door.   
  
The walls of the Hall were covered with squares of marble, each about fifty centimeters by fifty centimeters. Each was deftly hinged, impossible to see or open unless one knew the trick to it, and that concealed the Jedi's ashes with another compartment for mementos other Jedi wished to leave to one's memory. Attached to each of these marble squares was a small circular bracket, a holder for a spherical oil lamp. Part of the journey to becoming a Knight was maintaining a vigil here for five days, fasting and meditating and keeping the lamps filled with oil. There was a padawan here someone, keeping the same rites that she too had undergone, but that was not the point of her visitation here.   
  
Raven moved through the hallway, feeling the Force guide her to her destination. She traversed a few of the circular stairways leading higher into the tiered hall, coming to a stop in front of a square not unlike all of the others.   
  
Tears sprang to her eyes as she turned to face the square. She knew what it would say before she read it, but still the actual act comforted her. Raven took her slender, pointer finger and traced the words engraved on the marble:   
  
Emrys Teve   
Initiate to the Jedi Order.   
  
On the next lines were the sacred words, the Jedi Code:   
  
There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no death, there is the Force.   
  
Her lips moved silently as she traced those letters, intoning what she had said and learned many times over. Once she finished, she carefully lit her candle from his eternal flame and knelt before it, cupping the flame in her hand.   
  
The candle, inevitably, became to melt, and the wax trickled down the side, spreading onto her skin. Raven felt the prick of the heat, the flash of pain on her palm as she cupped the candle, but ignored it. It was a spiritual discipline, one of the highest honors a Jedi could give another, burning a candle down to a nub from the other's eternal flame. Time passed as Raven cradled the flame, focusing on its light, feeling the ache of her palms each time the wax spread beyond the solid puddle it made of herself. Soon, it was a white splotch covering the entirety of her palm, and the candle went out, the wick spent.   
  
Raven swallowed, her legs protesting as she shifted from her kneeling position. Her eyes were dry, although they had not been consistently so during the process of burning her candle. She stood and then carefully peeled the dry wax from her palms. Once finished with that painful task, taking care to bring the remains of the candle away in one piece, she studied the imprinted of her hands left on the wax.   
  
_A part of me in exchange for the part of you that will be with me always_, she thought solemnly as she found the catch to the hinged door. It swung open silently, and, with a sigh, a silent moan, that caught in her throat, she left the remains of her candle and part of herself with Emrys for always.   
  
***   
  
'"People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death; life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over."'   
  
Raven glanced up from the kneeling position she had resumed to see her master standing to her side, cupping a mug of something in her hands. Daré looked back placidly at her padawan, unblinking. "Who said that?" the dark-haired Jedi finally asked.   
  
"I don't know," Daré shrugged. She crouched down next to the younger woman and proffered the mug. "I coerced this tea from Master Dooku, so you had better appreciate it. I hope he teaches that padawan of his about the merits of good tea, if he accomplishes nothing else."   
  
"I didn't know you were on such intimate terms with him," Raven replied, taking the mug and enjoying the subtle warmth that flowed from it.   
  
"I didn't know him at all until he started corrupting your views of politics and the Jedi," the Jedi Master winked, "but he and I have joined forces to rally against our Council. Unfortunately, to date, we've been utterly unsuccessful." Daré sat down completely next to her former padawan.   
  
"_Cailín,_ I know you are in much pain."   
  
Raven studied the mug in her hands for a long time, absorbing the abrupt change of subjects and the wash of emotions it brought with it. She watched the shadows dance across the floor from the countless flickering flames within the Hall. The pattern of light and dark was never the same on the floor, always changing, constant only in its inconsistency, the never-quite-balanced equilibrium between light and dark.   
  
The Knight shuddered and stood, still gripping the mug in her hands. She moved to the edge of the walkway which overlooked the lower levels of eternal flames and ashes of Jedi dreams. Daré watched her shift but made no attempt to move after her. Instead, she just watched and observed, carefully assessing any one of thousands of pieces of information about her former padawan.   
  
The dark-haired woman reached down in an instinctive move to where her light saber usually sat on her hip. However, it was still clipped to her utility belt in her room. She sighed, crossing her arms instead. "When I became a Knight," Raven said finally, her words soft and slow in coming as she gave each word great thought before giving it voice, "I gave an Oath, one that is sacred to what the Jedi Order is, for what each individual Jedi stands. I promised that my actions would contribute towards the goals of justice and peace, that I would only use my blade to defend, especially those who are weaker than I."   
  
By this time, Daré had stood, moving to stand slightly behind Raven's left shoulder. She watched as her padawan reached for her lightsaber again, as though her hand had already forgotten the feel of it, its absence. "I pledged to show compassion and be fair, to do my duty as was dictated by the High Council of Twelve. I promised to form no attachments. I vowed to be a Jedi."   
  
Silence fell again, and Daré's hand strayed to her own lightsaber. Memories came back of Raven's Knighting Ceremony and of the Jedi Master's own. The Oath to which Raven was referring was taken on one's own light saber, the idea that you were Oathing yourself to something you had built with your own hands. No Jedi is forced into his role; it is a life that he builds, alone, from infancy to Knighthood.   
  
"Yet I failed in the most important, the most base ideal of the Jedi Order. I did not defend someone who could not defend himself. And because of that, he lost his life. I lost a friend, but what about him? He lost his innocence, his implicit trust, his life, because of me. Saying I'm in pain doesn't begin to describe it."   
  
The Jedi Master placed a comforting hand on her padawan's shoulder, following her gaze out into the large room, lined with walkways and plaques and flames. Saying nothing, for sometimes there are no words, Daré merely existed with her padawan for a long time, feeling her emotions and sending soothing waves through the Force to quiet the turmoil within the younger woman.   
  
Eventually, though, Raven pulled away, moving quickly down the walkway before Daré had a chance to react. She watched as the dark-haired Jedi went about halfway down the walkway, before the younger woman turned to face out into the Hall again. The Jedi Knight drew back for a moment, then Daré watched in shock as she leapt over the small marble railing down three stories to the main floor. Although she had to have used the Force to slow her, Raven still hit hard enough to land on all fours, her bare feet slapping against the marble. A wash of pain, physical pain, accompanied the landing, but then Raven was back on her feet. Daré watched her disappear, deeply concerned about what she just witnessed. 


	8. A Loner

_A Loner_   
  
Ruso stood outside his superior officer's office, waiting to be ushered inside. He had been called there, presumably on account of the recommendation he'd written in reference to Raven Suul. It had been a hard report for him to write, since he didn't really know where to put her. The hierarchy of Special Operations was a tricky area, covering many obscure needs of the IntCorps. Where she was now wouldn't suffice, unless she was assigned a new partner, and Ruso's instincts told him that making that decision would be disastrous, not to mention excruciatingly painful for his subordinate. Administration, a job like the one Ruso currently held, didn't seem to suit her personality or her abilities. Dismissing her was just plain stupid, giving the same abilities. Ruso had made the recommendation to transfer to another arm of the Special Ops, one where she could work alone, at least until she found her feet again.   
  
The door opened, breaking Ruso's train of recollections, and brought the shorter man face to face with another Jedi of average height, with a shock of blond hair and deep blue eyes. The man, one Iri Tuche, was his captain, one of three in this arm of the Special Ops. He was a formidable man, known for profound silences and extreme talent with reasoning and rhetoric, when he chose to give his thoughts words. The man's face was angular, mostly planes interrupted by sharp lines. He gestured that Ruso should come into his office.   
  
The door swung shut behind them, and, again in silence, Tuche motioned for Ruso to sit in a chair across from his desk, a large table scattered with flimsies and data pads. A few styluses were contained in a cup, and Ruso was also surprised to see a blaster sitting, lacking a cover of any sort, upon the other man's table. His face remained passive however as he sat, waiting for his superior to begin the conversation.   
  
Tuche sat behind his ample table, idly picking up the blaster and running his fingers along its barrel, taking note of its clean lines and perfect curvature. His mouth quirked for a moment, as though a thought occurred to him, and then the captain set aside the weapon to peer his blue eyes into the depths of Ruso's brown. "This," he said finally, indicating the blaster, "is a weapon that serves our agents very well in certain situations, ones that betraying their occupations as Jedi would be hazardous, don't you agree?"   
  
Ruso nodded his assent before vocalizing it. "Of course, Captain," he responded.   
  
Nodding once in a satisfied gesture, Tuche indicated a flimsy on his desk, one that Ruso couldn't see but guessed was his own report. "You've stated that you believe your agent, one Raven Suul, would serve our purposes best as a loner, doing some leg work without the encumbrance, or benefits, of a partner." This time, Ruso merely nodded, not needing to vocalize what he had already explained in writing.   
  
Heaving a sigh, the taller man stood, turning his back on Ruso to peer for a moment ou the picture window located behind his desk. "I can't say I agree with that statement, Ruso," he commented, still looking away. "Within that girl's mind, she holds a wealth of experience and knowledge on her particular line of work. It would seem to me that it would be a waste to abandon that to retrain her for something else." He turned away again, a haze forming around his silhouette, the man's front darkly contrasted with the light coming from the window.   
  
Ruso shrugged in response, gathering his thoughts together. "I'm aware of her knowledge and talents, sir," he replied without disrespect, "but I fail to see what you are proposing to do with her. Knight Suul is an excellent field member, always executing her objectives nearly flawlessly and in more than reasonable amounts of time. Despite the need to retrain her, I fail to see where she could serve the Order better."   
  
Tuche moved away from the window to pick up the blaster again, sighting it to his right, towards a wall with a few holos on it of the Jedi Temple. He fired the blaster, and instead of a clean bolt issuing from its muzzle, a click emanated from its inner workings, indicating that the weapon lacked power to shoot. "Lacking the proper preparations, one could die from making mistakes like this. Were I to be in a situation meriting the use of this weapon, I could easily be dead by now."   
  
Throwing the blaster back onto his desk, he looked into Ruso's eyes again. "She's untrained for being a loner. I suggest that we move her into a commanding position in something she's intimately familiar with, a job not unlike your own."   
  
Ruso nodded slowly again, not overly happy with his superior's conclusions. "As you say," he replied. Personally, he harbored doubts about Raven's abilities to direct. She was somewhat of a rogue within the ranks, having taken to Dooku's disapprovals of Council policy and her own master's tendency to be vocal about things with which she didn't agree. Quiet in many circumstances, something about politics just rubbed the girl wrong, probably just irritating her sense of justice. Raven worked better in the field, with her hands, out of the reach of such weighty, angering matters. Behind a desk? Ruso didn't know whether she would merely be resentful or flat out fail. But clearly, Tuche was going to do as he saw fit. And perhaps he was right. Maybe he saw something that Ruso missed in his years of acquaintance with the Jedi Knight.   
  
***   
  
Days faded into weeks, and with the passing of the time, Raven's grief seemed to mellow out from burning, white hot flames of suffering to glowing embers of remembrance. Her life settled back into routine, with the exception that she was still on leave, and it disturbed her how unaffected her Temple existence was. Still, she found solace in the practice rooms flanking the arena, honing her various weaponry proficiencies. The keel of her life had found an even heading again.   
  
The receipt of the datacard outlining her promotion didn't truly surprise the Jedi Knight, although she felt a slight disappointment when she realized that the honor signified her removal from the field. A pang of regret accompanied this knowledge, as Raven acknowledged that she would probably never again feel the thrill of chasing an adversary to bring him to justice. Instead, she would be living vicariously, reading the reports of her agents on their adventures. Yet, she meant what she had told Ruso; she trusted his judgment and his assessment for her new appointment.   
  
A couple of days before her leave officially ended, another datacard was delivered to her door, this one outlining the story behind the mission she would be supervising. As she read, she discerned that the Council was not making up the strife within the Senate that they constantly cited. The situation was a disturbing one in many respects. The Senator from Ord Mantell, as far as Raven could infer, seemed to have made himself an enemy. There had been vicious debates (over what, the card failed to expound) in the Senate recently, and this senator had been in the middle of it. However, his three children, not one over five standard years, had been taken hostage and threatened to be killed if the senator didn't pay.   
  
Raven paused, wondering about the ambiguity of the information. What did this have to do with the fact he was involved in the debates? Was it suspected that another politician had perpetrated the kidnapping? With what was the senator supposed to pay? Credits? Votes? Support? Some kind of favor regarding trade routes? The Jedi Knight shook her head, trying to clear it of the extraneous thoughts.   
  
The location of where the children were being held was discovered, and Raven's job was to supervise a group of Jedi to rescue them. The group would consist of two master-padawan teams, one set being named Aine Minins and her master Gre-Kier Arran, and the other Demian Emil and his master Robas Coun. The real problem was that, once Raven officially went off leave, she would have two days to organize her teams and get them into the field, leaving the teams with a mere day to get in, get the children, and get out.   
  
Raven sighed and tossed her datapad with the card inside onto the counter and moved to the couch. She sat down, propping her head in her hands. The Jedi Knight reeled for a moment. She had four days to throw the group together, getting them working like a team, if she chose to take that much time. That would leave only one day to scout the field, find out the exact location of the children, the people guarding them, their strengths and weaknesses, and any number of other pieces of information that would make this mission successful. Four days. It must have been rather difficult information to collect, she mused.   
  
Pulling herself from that prospect, Raven stood back up again, her mind already moving ahead to think about what she would need to do and how to get it done. Grabbing the datapad again, she left her rooms to find Ruso and question him, already planning to meet with her teams tonight. Four days was too short an amount of time for her to finish everything that needed to be done.   
  
***   
  
It was extremely early in the morning of the third day when Daré finally managed to track her former padawan down again. Ruso had informed her about Raven's promotion, as well as her first assignment. The older, raptor-faced Jedi had expressed concern about the girl. Admitting that the timeframe was deplorable, Ruso was afraid that Raven might have been throwing herself into the mission a little too much. Bearing an insulated flagon of soup and some bread, Daré had finally found the dark-haired Knight in one of the rooms that was jokingly referred to as a command center; a Spartan room with little more than a table, a few chairs, and a comm center.   
  
The table was covered with flimsies, laid out with what Daré could only presume was some kind of order. Some of the corners of the sheets were anchored by data cards, her own pad tossed into the seat of one of the chairs. Raven's outer robe was thrown over the back of one of the chairs, her boots kicked off beneath it. The lightbanks lining the edge of the ceiling were somewhat bright but not to the point of making the light harsh and glaring. The Jedi Knight didn't even look up when her master entered. Her dark hair, normally combed neatly or pulled out of her way, fell messily over her shoulder as she leaned over one of the larger flimsies, evidently a map of some kind. Daré quickly found the reason for her former padawan's hair; she would scrub a hand through it in frustration at something on the sheet, tugging it free of the tangles.   
  
"When was the last time you ate?"   
  
Raven lifted her head to regard her master, her eyes betraying fatigue and frustration. A wry smile crossed her face at the contrast between herself and her master. Daré stood, her robe in a deep purple, the wide, long sleeves concealing her hands. She wore a matching skirt beneath her normal beige tunic, her utility belt hugging her hips beneath the robe that hid her lightsaber and the various other things on the belt. Her copper hair was braided intricately, as always, without a hair out of place. Raven shook her head. "I will never understand how you always look like you just stepped out of your rooms en route to a Council meeting," the former padawan replied.   
  
Daré raised an eyebrow in question, not missing the fact that Raven hadn't answered her question. "It takes patient and a lack of desire to rush out and save the galaxy. Sometimes you realize that the galaxy will wait. You can't save the galaxy if you are asleep on your feet or starving yourself. 'Tisn't practical."   
  
"I haven't the time, Master," Raven replied, straightened from her position over the flimsies to indicate them. "My team leaves in the morning, and ..."   
  
"What are they doing currently, Raven?" Daré interrupted.   
  
The Knight shifted her weight slightly, seeing where her master was going with this. "Sleeping, I presume," came the response, although the tone indicated her belligerence.   
  
The shorter woman snorted quietly, a faint noise that spoke volumes about how much she had gleaned from Raven's last statement. Instead, she pulled the flagon from beneath her outer robe, as well as the bread she had brought. She laid out the cloth the bread was wrapped in, placing the bread on top of it. Then, she poured some of the soup from the flagon into a cup that fit over the top of it, also setting it on the cloth. Daré gestured to it, silently indicated that her padawan to eat.   
  
With a sigh, Raven shook her head and began to shift the things off her flimsies. "I haven't the time, Master," she said quietly, defensively.   
  
"Nonsense," the Jedi Master replied. "I know for a fact that you haven't slept at all since you read your summary. I also know that you will be sending your team out in the morning. They need you to be able to think clearly and make good decisions for them. You can't make good decisions without taking care of yourself." Daré reached down and took one of the pieces of bread, breaking it, and handing part of it to her padawan. "I'll eat with you."   
  
Shaking her head slightly, Raven accepted the bread and tore off a piece, putting it into her mouth. She chewed slowly, her face thoughtful and troubled. "Master, what do I do if my information never agrees?" the Knight asked when she had swallowed.   
  
Daré's face furrowed for a moment. "I don't understand what you mean."   
  
"This," Raven replied, gesturing towards the table entire. "Nothing agrees. I have five scouts in the field to find out about the area, and all of them have different information. They don't agree on number, location, or armaments of the men holding the kids. I'm not supposed to pass along information without verifying it, but how can I verify it if no one agrees? Surely some information is better than none."   
  
Master Shioc's face set, making her appear stern and unyielding. "I'm afraid I don't know what to tell you, _cailín;,_" she replied quietly. "It's one of those situations where you have to make a judgment call. They are your responsibility, and only you can discern what you think is best. Different people make different choices. You must just make the one that you think is best, the one upon which you can't improve."   
  
Raven slumped into a chair, absently eating the bread. As Daré watched, the sleepless hours and work of getting her team ready caught up with her, Raven's eyes were drooping. She slouched in the chair, her face still concerned, until the older woman walked over and took her arm, easing the younger from the chair. "Sleep, Raven," she said with a wry smile. "It will all be here in the morning." And, impressively enough for the young woman, she followed without dispute.   
  
***   
  
Raven was up with the morning's light, dressed in her traditional robes. Her hair was neatly brushed, a far cry from the mess it had been a few hours before, pulled away from her face in a half-ponytail. Her clothes were neat, freshly hand pressed, and she looked every inch the Jedi Knight that she was. The lightsaber hilt hung clipped to her belt, and even her standard issue blaster, more from her days with Nathanial, among other various articles had been attached to it.   
  
The Knight shifted slightly to move out of the shadows that the rising sun cast over the landing platform. Her team was standing slightly behind her, waiting in the doorway that led out onto the platform. She could sense their nervousness, the Masters' carefully maintained, restrained and controlled, the Padawans' leaping out ahead of them, mingling with excitement and anticipation. The group was waiting for a taxi that would take them from the Temple inconspicuously.   
  
Turning back, Raven regarded her team, feeling a small flair of pride in them. Robas Coun was wearing rather non-descript peasant garb, soft greens and tans that might have come from a leafier planet than Courscant. He had a large knapsack slung over a shoulder, filled with other innocuous items, like clothes and food, for himself and his padawan. Demian Emil was standing next to his master, his impatience showing on his face and in his deep blue eyes. His clothes resembled Robas's, only that they were threadbare, resembling something he might have gotten from a nonexistent older sibling. The older padawan turned, giving a grin to the younger, Aine Minins. Her dark hair was pulled back messily from her face, also wearing worn clothes. Hers had more tans and browns in them, and she looked like she had come from some kind of menial labor; the tunic was too big, the leggings a hair too tight. Gre-Kier Arran matched his padawan in garb. The idea was that the two masters were brothers, one widowed with the two children. They were finding a new existence away from the hard memories of their old home.   
  
The taxi pulled up, and Raven beckoned the Jedi from beneath the doorway. "May the Force be with you," she murmured quietly, maintaining the image that the family had sheltered there for a few days, and now the noble Jedi must send them on their way. Gre-Kier gripped her arm before he moved away, replying with a few words of reassurance, which appeared as gratitude. Then, the foursome disappeared into the taxi, and it eased away from the platform.   
  
Raven stood, her arms crossed over her chest, and watched the small craft until it was lost into the crowds of traffic that crossed the sky. A knot of disquiet had settled into her stomach, but she attempted to dismiss it as first time jitters. Mentally, she reviewed her team's timeline; they had one day, a scant twenty-four hours, to survey and come up with a plan for retrieving the children. By tomorrow morning, they would have what information the Temple could offer to match up with their own. Early afternoon was the time they would move, right after the midday meal.   
  
The Jedi Knight watched the sun rise for a few minutes, the light reflecting and refracting off the buildings, sending crazy patterns across Courscant's surface. She sought the Force, the calm, Unifying Force, but it was elusive, almost beyond reach. Its currents swirled around her, and Raven felt small and lost. She was but one person, one sentient being, and it was so much greater than she, beyond her comprehension. Raven shook her head, her thoughts scattering with the gesture.   
  
Walking briskly back inside, Raven made her way through the halls and went into a small room set up for receiving and sending communications. A couple of technicians sat at comm centers, and one turned around when she walked in. He shrugged, his gesture saying that nothing had changed since the last time she had spoken with them.   
  
"No reports, then," she said, her voice indicating that it was merely a reaffirmation of what the tech had just wordlessly told her. "I'll need something to give them tonight. I can't send them in blind."   
  
The tech, unofficial spokesman, shrugged again. "I don't know what to tell you. If the scouts don't give us reports, we can't give you information to pass along to your team. It's a game. You have to wait your turn."   
  
The dark haired woman sighed, pursing her lips in annoyance. "I don't enjoy waiting," she replied. The tech just grinned in response, not daring to verbalize a response to her comment. "I don't like waiting at all."   
  
***   
  
Morning faded into afternoon, and late afternoon found Raven in one of the practice rooms, wrecking vengeance on a set of practice droids. The staff in her communications room had all but kicked her out after she had spent the afternoon hovering and fretting over the lack of information. As hours passed, her tension was mounting, and the Jedi Knight eventually disappeared to rid herself of some of her energy.   
  
Stripped down to her undertunic, Raven slashed and parried her way through yet another intensive program, managing to keep all three of the droids at bay. It was the third scenario she had run with them, and the Living Force was coursing through her as strongly as the blood in her veins. She was one with the Force, at least, that aspect of it, and it was like flying to her. She was higher, comfortable in the area of sweat and blood, toil and fighting, the fundamentals of the service to which the Jedi Order was dedicated.   
  
A bolt sizzled from her lightsaber as she reflected it, deactivating one of the droids. The other two hovered just out of range, making a small formation to rush her both at once. Raven jumped and flipped neatly, slicing one of the droids into halves before running the other one through. The room filled with the smell of burnt plastisteel and cables. Wrinkling her nose in disgust at the scent, Raven collected the remaining functioning droid and left a note on the message board by the room indicating the state of the other two droids. She left the remaining one at the desk where a padawan took it and stored it away.   
  
Raven wandered back to her rooms after having had to go back for her outer tunics and tabard. She felt good after her workout, something she hadn't done for a while. Getting ready to send her team out had completely consumed all her time, and before that, she hadn't really felt a great desire to go near a practice room.   
  
Once in her rooms, she stripped out of her sweaty clothes and stepped into the refresher, enjoying the cool water across her overheated skin. Raven luxuriated in this for a while, also taking time to shampoo her hair hair, getting the salt out from it as well. Eventually, she stepped out and dried off, locating some clean tunics and leggings. It was as she was slinging her utility belt around her hips that she noticed the message light on her commlink flickering.   
  
Walking over to it, she keyed in the code for it to play back. "Hey, Suul, this is the communications room. We've heard from three of the scouts. Two of them agree on numbers and locations, although the third does not. We're about half a standard hour from needing to contact the team. I need you to get down here to finalize the report we're to send them. Get down here as quick as you can."   
  
Looping her damp hair away from her face, which was creased with concern, Raven made her way to the small room, resisting the urge to run. Mentally, she was berating herself for not paying closer attention to the time. As she pushed open the doors to the room, several heads swiveled around to regard her entrance, and the tension in the room was palpable.   
  
"Welcome back, captain," a tech, the same one as before, said with a terse look. "Here are the reports from the three. Still haven't heard back from the other two. We're going to have to send the team in the data at the top of the hour. Tell us what to give them." As he spoke, he tossed her three datacards, which she caught easily, and leaned back in his chair.   
  
Raven perched on a table edge, drawing her legs up to cross them beneath herself. She took the first datacard and put it in her pad. Taking a deep breath to center herself, much like she did before sparring, Raven cleared her mind and focused on the task at hand. Then, she read through the information, annotating notes on a flimsy she found one the table.   
  
The information, as such things go, was straightforward. The scout had counted heads and positioned them within the building to the best of his ability. The second card contained the same kind of setup, with the exception of some personal differences in style between the two scouts. However, the number of people weren't the same, although close, and their positions suffered from the same discretions. The third card was completely different. The numbers varied within a score of people, their positions off by decameters.   
  
Her mind racing, Raven gnawed on the end of the stylus. She moved away from the table, locating the blueprints of the building in question and flinging onto the table. Then, using the stylus, she marked down the positions and numbers from the three scouts. The two overlapped while the third didn't.   
  
"No confirmation on any of this?" Raven asked the tech, already knowing the answer before he shook his head in a negative. With a sigh, she looked at the map again. Gritting her teeth and feeling a knot of uncertainty form in the pit of her stomach, she found a clean flimsy piece and carefully noted what she thought was the likeliest positions and numbers of the adversaries. _'You must just make the decision that you think is best, the one upon which you can't improve,'_ Raven thought to herself, quoting her master. Still, the words sounded hollow, lacking her fiery master's conviction. She read the information over three separate times, each time checking it against the map again. Then, the Jedi Knight pushed herself away from the table.   
  
"Send them this," she said tightly, handing over the flimsy to the head technician. Then, Raven showed him her commlink. "I'll have this. I'll be in one of the practice rooms if you need me. Let me know if anything happens. Anything at all."   
  
The tech nodded slowly, taking the flimsy from her, unnerved by the look in her eyes. Raven, meanwhile, took one last look at him and then the flimsy and left, unnaturally stiff and quiet.   
  
***   
  
By all rights, Raven should have long since been abed. She had had a total of about four hours of sleep in the last three days, going on four. However, her mind and conscience could not let her rest. The warrior within the Jedi Knight found it completely unacceptable that she should remain within the Temple out of harm's way while the two pairs were out doing her bidding in a dangerous situation. So instead of spending the night in her bed, she was in the main arena, fighting droids and her own thoughts.   
  
By sunrise, Raven had completely decimated six droids, an unheard of number with their shielding systems and the fact they were designed to survive the activities implied in improving combat skills. Still, the Jedi Knight drove herself onward, despite the fact that she was stripped to her leggings and an undertunic, completely slicked with sweat and some burns. Her hair was soak from the sweat of her face and scalp with small tendrils curled by the salt framing her face. One of the droids had even managed to inflict blood, although she had only been bloodied once.   
  
Beyond physical appearances, Raven was bone-weary. It was unheard of for a Jedi Knight to train continuously for more than three hours, but it had been about 2000 hours when she'd left the communications room, and the sun rose around 0645 in the mornings on Courscant. Still, she pushed herself onwards, determined to find the absolute limit of her strength and reserves. In any case, it was preferable to standing around with nothing at all to do. The waiting was brutal.   
  
_My master was always a wreck when his teams were at work. He would fret about them having trouble because of some oversight of his_.   
  
Nathaniel's voice sprang unbidden into her mind, the memory of his gentle rebuke and soft tone, the friend that she had thought he was. But the betrayal was there, tainting the memory that had been untouched. With an explosive grunt, Raven jumped from the ground and swung herself around, kicking out one leg to savagely bring down a droid. Her foot and the droid connected solidly, and it skittered away in a shower of sparks. The move ended with her landing on one foot, the momentum carrying her just far enough around to reflect bolts back onto the last remaining droids, deactivating, although not damaging, them both.   
  
Raven dropped her lightsaber hilt, not carrying to notice that it deactivated when it hit the floor of the arena, bouncing slightly before coming to rest a short distance from her feet. Her legs were shaking beneath her, showing their displeasure for the last eleven hours. Her muscles burned as well, her shoulders and back, but she ignored it stoically. Idly, the Jedi Knight speculated on whether any other Knight had done such a strenuous routine merely for the doing of it, but she dismissed the thought as being unimportant. Instead, she eased herself down to sit and do some stretches to warm down.   
  
She was interrupted about three quarters of the way through the warm down by her commlink. Raven swallowed slowly and counted to ten before answering the link. Then, the Jedi Knight listened in stoic silence as the tech, in a shaky voice, explained that an ambush had taken place. The information had been unreliable on all three cases, that the teams had been caught unaware. However, the children were safe. Demian Emil was dead, killed by a blaster bolt to the chest, and his master had been seriously wounded in an attempt to defend him, although the extent of Robas's injuries was as yet unknown. He was unconscious and being brought to the Temple by Aine and Gre-Kier. But the senator's children were safe.   
  
Very slowly Raven stood up, after making some kind of intelligent response to the tech and clicking off her commlink. She was in shock, to say the least. Demian Emil, dead at her hand. Inadvertent as it was, the statement was true. The Knight couldn't imagine how Robas felt either; a Master's first duty was to his padawan.   
  
A half-formed thought occurred to Raven as she began to leave the arena, instinctively going to quickly clean up so that she could meet the transport bringing Robas back. A lot of the act of being a Jedi was the unspoken; the promise to defend those who could not do it themselves, the honor, the duty, the dedication. Raven had an overwhelming sense of failing in all those regards. The Knight turned around, looking at her lightsaber lying in the middle of the floor where she had dropped it. She took a deep breath, feeling uncomfortable with the image of it in the empty arena. But more than that, she felt dead, as though something vital to herself had been taken away. 


	9. Taking a Chance

_Taking a Chance_   
  
Raven appeared at the landing platform mere moments before the shuttle did, dressed simply in a robe that fell to her ankles, a neutral green color. A slim belt circled her waist, her light saber and a few other pouches hanging from it. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face into a half-ponytail held back by a leather thong, and she stood silently, bare feet slightly wider than her shoulders apart. Her face was blank, the quintessential Jedi mask of calm and serenity.   
  
The craft turned a hundred eighty degrees to land smoothly on the platform as the Jedi watched. The ramp lowered, the hydraulics hissing slightly, and then a slender form appeared. It was Aine, looking much older than Raven remembered, cradling a small human child of perhaps two years in one arm and another looking roughly the same age in the other. A four-year old trailed behind her, one hand griping the padawan's clothes and hiding behind her legs as well as the poor thing could.   
  
Behind her came her master, also looking indescribably weary. He was leading a hover-stretcher, upon which lay Master Robas Coun wrapped in a medical blanket. The Master glanced at Raven, giving her a small nod that spoke of happiness to be home again. The padawan stepped up to Raven as the older Jedi moved past, still guiding the stretcher towards the entrance. Infirmary staff were just inside the door, although Gre-Kier didn't know that. He disappeared. Aine bowed to the best of her ability with the children in her arms. "We have returned," she said quietly, and Raven could see tears shining on the surface of her eyes.   
  
"See that the children are settled comfortably, Padawan, and then you may clean yourself up. I assume that …" Raven paused, feeling awkward for a moment, watching the younger woman's eyes, "that Demian is in there?" Aine flinched slightly then nodded assent. "I will see to him and then notify the senator that his children are safe. The children are in your care until I relieve you of that duty, but I'm sure that they might benefit from a visit to the crèche."   
  
Aine murmured an appropriate response to Raven then bowed again. Before the Padawan could leave, however, Raven caught her arm. "Thank you, Aine," she said quietly. "I know it was a difficult mission in many ways. You have my gratitude." Aine looked flighty for a moment then nodded once, her expression conveying that she had a sense of duty as strong as Raven's. Then, the younger woman disappeared inside.   
  
Steeling herself, Raven turned to the shuttle and walked slowly, the tread on the ramp feeling odd beneath her feet. She ducked into the vehicle, unsurprised to see that it was ordinary in its layout and features. A small sitting room was on her left and a short hall led to a set of quarters and the cockpit. Instinctively, she knew where Demian's body lay. Carefully, she moved to her right and opened the door to the quarters.   
  
On another medical stretcher, not unlike the one that held his master, Demian Emil lay, covered by a sheet as well as his master's dark, outer robe. Raven regarded the motionless body for a long moment, feeling the stillness of the room around her with heightened senses. He seemed contradictorily both more and less real this way. No person ever lay that still, yet this was the padawan so full of life before.   
  
The feeling of inadequacy came back stronger, and Raven envisioned herself still standing in the arena, looking at the lightsaber. Failure. The failure to protect, the failure to make sound decisions, the failure to uphold the Code even. She imagined herself leaving the lightsaber in the arena, the lights turned off and the room cold, before she banished the thought.   
  
The Jedi Knight grabbed the sheet and carefully pulled it back, studying the padawan's face. It was pallid, the skin looking unnaturally transparent and thin. His eyes had been closed, and a few cuts showed on his face, red lines that stood out on his pale skin. Tears sprang to Raven's eyes as she thought of another young boy taken too soon, and she replaced the sheet, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand.   
  
Raven led the stretcher to the infirmary with a heavy heart, her iron will keeping her face respectfully blank and dry. She left him there to their ministrations, the preparations for his pyre. Then, she went to her rooms to call the senator. The man was elated to hear of the safety of his children, and they made arrangements for him to collect them. Even though Raven was confident that outwardly, she was the calm and collected Jedi, inwardly she felt nothing, a void. The price for the children's safety had been too high, and she had gambled those stakes with other's credits.   
  
After changing into formal robes, Raven located the children in the crèche as she had expected, leaving word for Aine that she had taken the children to a landing pad to meet their father. She stood, impassively, as the children were tearfully reunited with their father. The senator thanked her profusely, his gratitude shining in his eyes. She responded politely and correctly then watched as the family left.   
  
A gentle breeze swept across the landing pad as Raven looked the direction that the transport had gone, much as she had done an eternity of two days ago. Acceptance had settled into her expression, and all at once Raven knew what she must do. The Order had no need of a Knight like herself. It followed the expression of needing enemies with friends like she.   
  
There was a fighter's adage that came to her mind. Walking away from a fight that one has no chance of winning wasn't considered cowardice; it was a matter of prudence. Some fights were too daunting, impossible to win. Only in rare cases was the sacrifice worth continuing the fight. More often, the acceptance of one's weaknesses made for the better decision, providing a platform from which one could plan a new attack, a more effective one.   
  
It was time for Raven to walk away and find a new means of service to her beloved Order, one to which she was better suited.   
  
***   
  
Her room was draped in shadows. Her careful preparations had taken most of the afternoon, and now the Jedi believed she was ready. She had changed into her unitard and a long-sleeved tunic that fell to her ankles, slit up the legs to her mid-thigh to allow for freedom in movement. It was a soft lavendar, dark enough to not catch light unless she was on a well-lit walkway. Thrown over the back of one of her chairs was her heavy robe, standard Jedi issue. Next to the chair was a large knapsack, holding what nondescript civilian clothes she owned, as well as all the food she had in her rooms and a few sets of Jedi tunics and leggings. Also in the pack was her ratiuar and case, a gift from her master that had helped teach her to mediate. She had cleaned her room and straightened it up, leaving it with the appearance that no one had lived there. Jedi had few personal effects.   
  
Carefully she pulled her hair back from her face and secured it. Raven took one last look around her home, feeling a twinge of melancholy pull at her. She accepted it, knowing that she was making the right decision. On the counter lay a flimsy and a stylus, the only things not neatly put away. It was a note to her master, simply state that she felt she had fulfilled her usefulness to the Temple. Daré would understand; at least, Raven hoped so.   
  
With a sigh, she walked over to her bag and gently dug through it before coming up with her utility belt. From it hung her lightsaber; Raven couldn't bear to part with that, no matter what. Gently she unclipped it, placing it back into the bag. Then, she found her blaster and its holster and slid that onto the belt, which she then slung over her hips. The look she was aiming for was that of a provocative bounty hunter, someone with enough of an aura that others would leave her alone.   
  
The dark-haired woman swept one last glance over her dark rooms, touching her fingers to her lips for a moment, before turning away. She threw her robe over her shoulders, pulling her arms through. Then, she eased the knapsack over one of her shoulders so that it hung diagonally across her back, the strap running from her left shoulder between her breasts to her right hip. She adjusted it so that her robe concealed most of her clothes. Then, Raven pulled up the hood of her robe, hiding her face in the shadows.   
  
Moving through the halls of the Temple was easier than seemed suitable. With every step, Raven expected someone to stop her, to ask her where she was going or what she was doing. Still, the halls were quiet and empty as she made her way to the entries on the walkway levels. It was surprisingly easy, but also painfully difficult. Raven felt regret at what she would never do; she would never spar again, she would never train a padawan, she would never meditate in the Room of a Thousand Waterfalls or watch the sun rise from one of the spires. Still, the guilt at what she had already done was overriding; there was really no choice.   
  
The doorman was a small, bent old human male, one that Raven knew very well by sight from her years of working for the IntCorps. His name was Kaie Far, and he was indebted to the Jedi for one reason or another. He was one of the few non-Jedi who worked and lived within the Temple. Rumor had it that his child had been taken into the Temple for protection and, even though the child died from disease, he asked to work for the Jedi to show his gratitude. Raven didn't know his true story, but in any case, he was a gentle, friendly man.   
  
"Bit late for running, isn't it, 'Ven?" he asked quietly as she approached, his voice soft with a lilting accent that she could never place. Raven guessed that he knew every IntCorps officer by name and sight, as well as the members of the Political Corps, and every other Jedi who was in and out often.   
  
She shrugged, offering him a slight smile. "When duty calls, Kaie, who am I to refuse?" she replied.   
  
He nodded slowly. "Of course. A Jedi can never rest when duty is involved. Should I look for you before my shift is up?"   
  
Raven smiled again softly. He always asked after her, wanting to be sure that if something were to happen, he would know when to expect her back. Kaie was considerate that way, a true gentleman at heart. "No, don't wait up for me. I won't be back tonight."   
  
Nodding slowly, he grasped her hand, something he didn't usually do. "Then the Force be with you, 'Ven. The Force be with you."   
  
Gently, she extracted her hand, instinctively upset by that display, although her rationale was that he had heard about Nat. Of course, the entire Temple had heard about Nat. She then nodded a farewell and slipped out into the night.   
  
***   
  
The depths of the night found Raven well ensconced in the entertainment district at a small, rather seedy bar. The entire place reeked of the kind of place people went when they didn't want to be found, and the situation seemed to fit well with the Jedi. She found herself a small booth that looked on the minute dance floor. A band was behind it, playing some music that originated somewhere on the Outer Rim. Most of the establishment was filled with dark looking figures, representing many occupations and species. Raven didn't recognize many of them, although they all had a similar aspect: the look that said don't mess with them.   
  
When the waitress came by, Raven ordered a shot of Corellian whiskey, anticipating the fiery drink. The drinking of alcohol, although not forbidden, was discouraged among the ranks of the Order. However, contrary to that stigma, all padawans went through a class to develop a tolerance to the drink, due to its common appearance at dinners of state or other functions. It would be unseemly for the dignified Jedi to become drunk at political functions, not mention the implications of that kind of weakness in the field. Still, as did many of the Jedi, Raven had developed a taste for the drink and understood her limits.   
  
The waitress deposited the drink, and Raven paid with a credit chip, a remnant from an old mission. Then, the other woman moved away to tend to other customers, leaving the Jedi to observe the crowd in silence and enjoy the shot. Raven inspected the amber liquid for a moment and was about to take it when a large, well-built human male approached her. He loomed over her table, his dark eyes eying her chest suggestively.   
  
"'S a hard drink fer a lassie lie ye," he said, his accent thick to her ears. He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side, and Raven couldn't help but wonder what kind of response he expected. "Yer too fine a lassie fer the drinkin' ay that," he finally added.   
  
Raven humored him with a weak smile. "I know what I like," she responded, her face remaining noncommittal. What she wanted, however, was to be left alone.   
  
"Ye ken ye can hold it?" came the incredulous response.   
  
"I can hold my liquor, yes," Raven chuckled. The silliness of the situation was getting to her. She knew she was slimly built, not at all the picture of a girl who could take many shots without collapsing under the table. But then, Jedi training was renowned for being rigorous in all respects. Why should tolerance be any different?   
  
"Lass! To me, lassie!" The large man called the waitress over. "Aye, I'm wanting a score ay ye best whiskey, Corellian, like hers." Raven's eyes widened. He turned back to her. "Let's see ye keep that much in ye," he grinned, sitting down across from her.   
  
A grin appeared on Raven's face. It was a matter of meditation to her, as easy as winning a spar against a padawan. "I don't think you know what you're getting into," she replied. "I'll even give you an advantage." She picked up her original shot, slammed it back, and upended the shot glass on the table with a clang.   
  
A small crowd had gathered around the table, apparently curious as to the intentions of the small, dark-haired woman and the strong, red headed man. He continued to periodically leer suggestively at her, although he took note of the growing interest. "My money's on Kieran," someone in the crowd commented, jutting a finger at the man. Someone else countered that bet, and a small flurry of placing bets and establishing odds took place.   
  
"Why don't the gamblers pick up the tab for this little exchange?" The speaker was a blond haired man, rather nondescript, except for the facts of his tall height and slight build. His eyes were a curious shade of grey, seeming to shift from moment to moment. He had the look of a survivor, someone who had seen more than she cared to guess.   
  
There was a brief grumbling discussion, and then the gamblers agreed. The waitress returned, setting out the twenty shots, and the bill was settled. The red-haired man, Kieran, set ten in front of each. "Clean rules," he grunted, "first ta finish wins. How's that fer ye?"   
  
"Sounds fair," Raven replied. "But someone else needs to start us."   
  
"I'll do it," the grey-eyed man volunteered. Kieran gave him a brief glare, as though upset with the interference. A slight grin played across the other man's face. "When I say 'Corellia,' the game is on. You both ready? All right. Corellia!"   
  
Raven grabbed the first glass, enjoying the warmth as it slid down her throat. She slammed it down, moving along methodically down her line, ignoring her competition. It was a conclusive finish; she had her last glass down before he'd picked his up. Kieran drank his last slowly, looking at her with awe in his eyes. "Where d'ye put it?" he asked incredulously.   
  
The Jedi just grinned and shrugged. The crowd had already begun to dissipate, having settled their accounts. Kieran leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment. Then, he shifted out of the bench to tower over her again. This time, he wasn't looking as amiable. "Ye's a fine bonnie lass," he said, leaning over her and leering again. He grabbed her wrist in his hand, drawing her from the table.   
  
Raven allowed herself to be pulled from her seat, running a simple Force exercise to dissipate the alcohol in her system and slowly calculating. Her lightsaber was in her bag, although it would be foolish to use it here, for it would simply draw too much attention. Her blaster was in its thigh holster, hidden between her legs by her long tunic, although it would be difficult to reach. Sheer physical differences would make it hard to take him in a hand-to-hand setting, even though he was obviously being affected by the shots he'd taken. She'd have to play it by ear. Mentally, Raven berated herself for putting herself in this situation. She should have just brushed him off.   
  
"Why don't ye and I let oursels ootay here, hm?" he asked. She resisted, refusing to move more than a meter away from the booth. He grunted in annoyance, applying more pressure, although she still refused to move. "Stubborn lass, hasn't anyone taught ye to mind yer menfolk?" He twisted her wrist painfully.   
  
"Think very hard whether or not you want to do that," Raven warned, already planning her next move. Then, he yanked her wrist on around, shoving her to the ground in front of him.   
  
"I don't appreciate threats," he snarled as Raven tumbled to the floor. However, she smoothly did a tuck and roll, glad she was loose. The fluid movement ended with her back on her feet, staring him down. She rejected the idea of using her blaster. It would be impossible to simply wound him superficially with that, and she didn't want to cause a scene that would attract large amounts of attention.   
  
"Neither do I," she replied. "I suggest you retire – alone – for the evening."   
  
"Do ye ken who I am?" the red-haired man replied, laughter and mockery in his voice, moving forward to her, obviously unafraid.   
  
"Do you know who she is?"   
  
The thinner young man, probably about her own age, Raven judged, inserted himself between the two, his back to her. Kieran blinked, either confused by the question itself or the audacity of the one who asked it. "Who she is?" he repeated dumbly.   
  
Grey eyes turned to her, giving her a look that was supposed to convey understanding tolerance, but beneath that, he was asking her – no, pleading – to go along with his ruse. She remained noncommittal, concerned about what he was planning. He turned away again, the picture of relaxation and amusement. "I'll give you a hint. She works for the same lad you do." His tone was lighthearted, and Raven suddenly felt very relieved. For a moment, she thought that he would say she was a rogue Jedi. She pushed the thought away, though. How could he know her secret? Then it occurred to Raven that she didn't really know at what game she was playing. Life in the shadow of the Temple and life outside of it were two completely different things.   
  
"I've no seen the lass around," Kieran growled in response. "She's better suited fer the dance floor than this dump." He moved to push past the smaller man, who threw up his hands to prevent Kieran from moving past. Then, he tapped his nose and winked at the redhead.   
  
"That's the idea. Doesn't look like much, does she? Just a defenseless, young, beautiful woman…" He trailed off and turned around so that he could see both Raven and Kieran. "At least, until the chips are down. Then a Jedi would be hard-pressed to beat her."   
  
Raven gave him a patient look, one that she hoped he read as he was losing time. She didn't appreciate the reference, and she wasn't sure she liked where this was going. "Are you gentlemen finished discussing me and my talents?" she asked, emphasizing the third word slightly. Kieran and the other man exchanged looks, and the Jedi shook her head. She moved to the booth, throwing on her cloak and settling the back over her shoulder. "Good evening," she said, not discourteously, but tartly enough that her displeasure was known. In reality, it was not so much displeasure as it was discomfort in the situation, although she couldn't have said from what the discomfort stemmed. The Jedi was perfectly capable of defending herself. In any case, she left the waitress a tip and disappeared into the night.   
  
***   
  
"Hey, wait up for a moment."   
  
The voice echoed across the walkway as Raven turned around to see the slim young many moving quickly after her. She was about 100 meters from the bar, unsure of her next destination but knowing that she didn't really want to remain near the place. Her mood had dropped, a mixed result from diffusing the alcohol and the stress of the day. The dark-haired woman waited patiently, sensing no threat from him, although she wondered what exactly he wanted.   
  
As he approached, she shifted her burden to rest more comfortably between her shoulder blades. The young man looked a little uncertain of himself, despite the fact he pressed on until he was near enough to her to carry on a conversation without yelling. "I'm sorry about what happened in there," he said quietly, searching her face for something.   
  
Mild surprise flooded Raven because, although she didn't know what to expect, that hadn't been it. "Nothing happened," she replied evenly after thinking for a long moment. "I shouldn't have allowed myself to get into the situation."   
  
The man shrugged. "I knew what Kier was thinking from the first moment you walked in the door. He's gets a rather predatory look about him. I should have stopped him or something."   
  
"A friend of yours, then, I take it?" Raven asked. Her curiosity was getting the best of her. She wanted to know who this man was and why he felt so compelled to apologize to her, a complete stranger. Such a sense of honor was rare, enough amidst the ranks of the Jedi Order itself.   
  
"An associate," he replied flatly, a hard look coming into his eyes. "I would have killed him before now for other… exploits of his involving woman, if I could."   
  
"Apologizing to me won't change those incidents," Raven countered gently, understanding the motivation that must have prompted him to follow her.   
  
He looked away, studying the skyline for a moment, giving Raven a profile view of his strong chin, his gently sloping nose, and one of his bright gray eyes. Then he turned back, catching her green with his gray. "I know what you are," he said quietly, although there was steel behind the tone, leaving little room for argument.   
  
"And what is that?"   
  
"You are a Jedi, despite the fact you're trying to conceal it for some reason."   
  
Raven blinked in surprise, completely caught off guard by his assertion. "And what makes you say that?" Her response was wary, and she resisted the urge to shift her pack again. The thought occurred to her to just walk away from him and find somewhere to spend the rest of the night, but something about him had caught her curiosity. She felt she could trust him, although there was no reason for her to.   
  
He shrugged. "The way you walk, I guess. The way you carry yourself. Most women don't have that confidence, that … aura of a warrior. You have no fear. The way you downed eleven shots without so much as a slurred word or misplaced step. Even when Kier obviously wanted more than you were willing to give, you never even flinched. You just adapted and plotted your next step. You have the grace, and you reek of justice and service. I know what a Jedi looks like; you are one." He stood, his feet slightly apart, regarding her levelly.   
  
Raven saw Emrys crouching in fear and Demian stiff and cold on the medical stretcher. She shook her head. "I'm no Jedi," she replied a little harshly, thought it was directed at herself.   
  
Impressively, he stood his ground, cocking his head slightly and looking at her thoughtfully. He watched her for a long moment, and Raven got the impression that this is what he did. He observed, carefully piecing things together into a coherent picture, and then, only then, he acted. "You have somewhere to stay for the night?" he asked finally.   
  
"I don't even know your name," she replied quietly, feeling draw in by this rather non-confrontational man before her. "Why should I trust you?"   
  
He smiled in response, a gentle gesture, and spread his hands. "If you could handle Kier so well, I shouldn't be any kind of problem. Besides, information such as my name is dangerous. You also don't know what I do."   
  
"What do you do for a living?"   
  
"Make money so that I can see my wife again."   
  
Raven frowned slightly at that, his tone indicating sadness and a touch of regret. "What do you mean by that?"   
  
"She's still on Agio, a small moon in the Inner Rim off Iego. Whatever you might have heard from smugglers, it's a lie. Agio is in the middle of a civil war. I need to make enough money to bring her and my son here so that he can grow up safe. I've only been here a few months though. My wife, she's pregnant with our child." He'd been looking at the ground, and then the young man glanced up, fear and sadness in his eyes. "I don't know why I'm telling you this though. Maybe that's why I thought you were a Jedi. If you were, maybe you could help me. Help us. I miss her so much, and I'm afraid she won't be there when I can be with her again."   
  
The concept of love was an ambiguous one to Raven, having been raised in the Temple where such attachments were forbidden, but she could see the depth of his emotion, the rawness and the complexity of it shining in his eyes. "So why have you offered me a place to stay? Then you'll have to feed me," she teased gently.   
  
"Because no one did for me when I came here, I suppose," he replied, obviously still thinking about his wife. "I don't really know."   
  
Her instincts kicked in, years of helping other beings, being commissioned for such an occupation. Besides, she was touched by his generous offer, despite his not having much to offer in the first place. "My name is Raven. Raven Suul," she said, offering her hand for him to shake. "I was a Jedi. Maybe between the two of us we can get your wife here. That is, if you don't mind going into business with a rogue," she added with a wink.   
  
He took her hand. "Dane C'xon, at your service. I suppose a former Jedi is better than none at all," he replied with a smile. "Just don't do that mind trick thing, okay?"   
  
Raven grinned. "We'll see." 


	10. A New Day

_A New Day_   
  
Morning crept across the buildings on Coruscant's surface like a thief, carefully lighting each building in turn, the golden brilliance spilling into the large transparisteel windows, illuminating corners and chasing away shadows.   
  
Daré Shioc sat, her legs neatly tucked beneath herself, her head bowed and eyes closed, in a pool of such light, being her day as she did every day, with meditations for focus. Still, focus was elusive this morning. The Force rolled within her as usual, but it didn't seem to be quite as it usually was. Something –something close to her – had changed, and her instincts, or if nothing else, her experience, told her it probably had something to do with her latest padawan.   
  
With a sigh, she opened her deep blue eyes and stood slowly, working the kinks out of her slowly aging body. The Jedi Master, as childish she might choose to act on occasion, was getting older, and some mornings her body seemed intent on reminding her of that fact. She moved to look out of her window which overlooked the Sentorial district of Coruscant. Her reflection peered back at her, a concentrated look on its face, but the diminutive master ignored it. Instead, she looked out on the sweeping buildings that housed the quarters of the Senators from all corners of the galaxy. Each one with his own agenda, his own hopes and fears. His own ambition.   
  
The Jedi Master put her hands in the sleeves of her robe, her face shifting into a harder look, one that would never reach the source of her irritation. More and more the Senate reminded her of initiates, whining about getting each individual's way. They were slowly spiraling themselves to destruction, that much was painfully obvious. A sentient would be hard pressed to find a larger, more diverse group of liars, cheaters, and scammers. The problem was, they all held enormous power as well. Beings of true nobility were a rare find these days, even for one who dwelt in the Temple.   
  
Her thoughts turned back to her former padawan, and Daré felt a twinge of regret. That one had much potential, although not in the way most people considered potential in a Jedi. Her strength in the Force was nothing commendable nor would it ever be. No one had ever lauded her presence or command of the Force, and it was by the mere grace of that entity – Raven's own belligerence notwithstanding – that she'd become a Knight at all.   
  
It wasn't even her fighting ability that made her what she was. She could swing a lightsaber with the best of them, holding her own with most, if not all, of the more revered fighters in the Order. Her sheer skill and prowess was almost a thing of legend within the Temple, although it was always coupled with her inane inability to manipulate the Force deftly. Many Jedi couldn't comprehend her capacity to bring even Windu to his knees and then fail to levitate a box the size of a young initiate. But such was the ambiguities of the Force sometimes. You can't really question that to which you know you'll never receive a sufficient answer.   
  
Raven's nature was what made her special, at least to her master. Daré had never witnessed an instance where Raven hadn't given completely of herself to someone else, such as bestowing a favor or simply doing a kindness. She was, above all, born to serve and do it dutifully. Her dedication to such pathetic and disgusting beings who existed out there was touching. Privately, the Jedi Master doubted that most of them deserved what they received from the giving Knight, but that was really not important. Raven lived to serve, period.   
  
Gliding gently across the floor, Daré moved into her small kitchenette and grabbed a few satchels of the homemade tea blends she made from the small plants she grew in her apartments. She decided to go visit her padawan, since she hadn't seen Raven much recently. The Jedi Master knew that the Knight was hurting deeply, and it was difficult to know what to do for her.   
  
Arriving at her former padawan's door, she was slightly nonplussed to discover that she could sense no one inside. Raven typically kept odd hours, but she knew that the Knight ought to be asleep. Her team was due in sometime yesterday, so logic dictated that she would be asleep, catching up on that rare commodity. A thread of concern overwhelmed the Jedi Master, and she tried the door to see if it was unlocked.   
  
It was, and gently Daré opened the door to peer in. The room was still relatively dark, facing away from the rising sun, with shadows dripping from the walls onto the floors in dark pools. The Jedi Master felt slightly uncomfortable, although she couldn't have said why, and the entire room was heavy with her padawan's emotions. Still the place was very barren. Raven lived cleanly, more so than most Jedi, but usually there was at least a datapad or a tome lying around from where the Knight had left it.   
  
Feeling trepidation, Daré moved farther in, noticing something sitting on the counter of Raven's kitchenette. Cold realization settled into her stomach and crept its way up as she slowly came to the conclusion of what the Knight must have down. Failure was something all too real to that child, the knowledge that failure meant leaving the Order was a very real possibility. She picked up the flimsy, afraid to read it.   
  
_Master,   
My failures speak for themselves. I love you and will think of you often.   
I couldn't fight hard enough to save them.   
Raven_   
  
"Oh, cailían;," she murmured, placing the flimsy back on the table, her hand shaking slightly, "my cailían.;" The Jedi Master moved over to the couch and sat down, cradling her head in her hands, her palms damp from her tears. "My cailían;," she whispered over and over again, "it wasn't your fault."   
  
***   
  
Dane awoke around his usual time, about an hour after the sun had risen to light the windows of the Coruscant skyline. He still hadn't quite gotten used to the rhythms of this world, which had longer days than his own home. Enjoying the feeling of having no where to go and nothing immediately pressing for him to do, he shifted, pleased by the weight of his blankets over him. It wasn't the same as feeling the warm bliss of his Ava, but it was enough at the moment. She would be with him soon enough.   
  
Finally, his work ethic got the better of him, and the young man threw back the covers to his bed. He pulled himself out of it, running a hand through his dark hair. For a moment, he stood, clad only in a pair of leggings and regarded the messy bed, thinking of the night before. The Jedi had refused to take the bed, claiming she had slept in worse places than the threadbare, albeit very comfortable, couch beyond the dividing wall that stretched halfway across the room. No amount of coaxing could get her to take his bed, so she had wound up on the couch and he in the bed.   
  
He moved beyond the diving wall to look out into the tiny sitting room that led into a minute kitchen. Everything in the apartment spoke of economy, the cheapest of everything, but it was comfortable in its own way. Dane had dreams of finding a nicer apartment for Ava and his little Copelan. Even the baby would have its own room. Then, he shook his head, knowing that he wasn't being realistic. This might not be Agio, but it wasn't exactly the Chancellor's Chambers either.   
  
Raven was curled on the couch, most of her covered by the blankets on top of her. His apartment even now, with the rising sun, was cold. The heating element had broken, and Dane's rather worthless landlord had yet to even deign to inspect it, let alone see to fixing it. The nights grew cold, and the days warmed only during the midmorning, when the sunlight could find its way into the large, grimy picture window on one wall. Then, it cooled off again, much to the discomfort of the occupants.   
  
Dane was surprised to see the Jedi in an apparent deep sleep. Her dark hair made a messy halo around her head, one arm out flung over it. Not for the first time since he'd offered her shelter, he wondered what game he was playing. He would be deluding himself if he were to say it was for entirely noble intentions. Realistically, this wasn't a philanthropy mission at all. Part of him firmly believed that if a Jedi, rogue or no, put her mind to something, the very Galaxy conspired to make it so. Maybe if he had a Jedi on his side, he would see his Ava again, his son Copelan.   
  
Part of him couldn't help but wonder if he was just clinging to childhood memories. Dane moved to the kitchen to put some caf on to heat, seeing the images replay themselves. He wasn't a native to Agio; when he was born, it was on a Mid Rim planet by the name of N'dom. The planet, when he was about five, had been thrown into revolution by a rebel faction who had instigated a successful coup against the group who was in power. The group in power scoured the countryside for women to ravage and work for them, his mother, a young, attractive woman, being among those ranks. Bloody chaos had ensued for about five years between the rebels and various powerful factions until the Jedi were petitioned. A team of five Jedi, an enormous amount, had been sent. He'd met three of the Jedi, being assigned to see to them. As if by magic, they had procured a compromise between the rebels in power and the factions in the field. From that day forth, part of Dane was confident that there was nothing a Jedi couldn't accomplish.   
  
And now one was sleeping on his couch. He had to admit, she wasn't completely what he would have expected, or chosen for that matter, had that been an option. But she was here, and she had promised to help. That was enough for him.   
  
A loud bang came on the door, and Dane moved to open it, fairly confident he knew who would be standing behind it. Sure enough, Kieran's hulking form stood impatiently in the hallway when he checked the eyehole. When he opened the door, the larger man looked more than mildly annoyed. "Ye have a run," he said bluntly, brushing past the smaller man into the shabby apartment. "The Slug himsel called this morning, wee hours it were as well."   
  
Kieran inspected the caf pitcher, still not warm, and grunted in annoyance. "Ye up to it?" Then he looked into the sitting room. "The lass!" he cried, moving to go look at her. Dane touched his arm and shook his head when Kieran looked back.   
  
"Don't do it. Leave her be," he warned quietly.   
  
Kieran made a face but demurred. "There will be time for that later. Apparently Jabba's very upset about all this. 'E called both me and his contact, ranting about needing this done."   
  
"What are the details, Kier?"   
  
The larger man shrugged, his look plain, that this was not the place to discuss such things. "Let's go fer a walk, eh? Leave the lass for now, I'm sure she'll fair by hersel." Dane nodded, found something and left Raven a note, then followed Kieran out of his building.   
  
***   
  
"What do you mean, the shipment was lost? I'm a running, not one of his strong-arms," Dane said, the irritation in his voice clear as he moved alongside the larger man, hands shoved deep into his pockets.   
  
"I ken that," Kieran shrugged. "I 'spect that's why 'e sent me tae go wit' ye," he replied. His accent got stronger as his brow furrowed, indicated in his own quiet way his own confusion.   
  
Dane scowled, brushing past a small group of people on the walkway who were waiting for a shuttle as they continued to move beyond the entertainment district into the housing units which lay on the other side. "It's nasty business, that's what I think."   
  
"What business of it is ours? We do as 'e says. I cannae afford to turn down 'is chinks, and neither can ye. What aboot yer lass? Yer boy?"   
  
"So what? We demand an audience with this guy? Kieran, think for a second. He's a smuggler, big time. Well known throughout the Galaxy with so many friends in high places even the Republic can't touch him. Jabba's lost it. Even a Jedi wouldn't…." The young man stopped, his face suddenly registering shock. "That's it!"   
  
"Recruit a Jedi? Ye daft?" came the retort, which was a completely reasonable retort.   
  
"Recruit? No. She's not even a Jedi. But she's close, and she'll have to do."   
  
"She?" Dane turned one hundred and eight degrees, moving back the way he'd came. Kieran followed slightly behind, suspicion clouding his face. "Ye don't mean the lass, do ye? A Jedi? I don't ken if that's bright…"   
  
"What ideas do you have? She needs work anyway. You can give her a few of the finer points of running."   
  
"Yer daft! Jabba'll have us killed or worse! If 'e kens we told someone else…"   
  
Dane turned, confronting the other man. "Listen to me. If we go in there to find out where the shipment is, Omto will kill us. If we blatantly refuse, Jabba will kill us. I think we have the best chances with her."   
  
Kieran frowned. "But if we send her, the lass'll be killed."   
  
Pursing his lips, the smaller man shook his head. "She's Jedi-trained. You can't kill a Jedi."   
  
With a sigh, Kieran put up his hands in reluctant acquiescence. "But she may kill us."   
  
Dane winked broadly at the larger man. "Leave that to me."   
  
---------   
  
"You want me to do what?"   
  
Dane stood across from her in his apartment, hands crossed in front of him. Kieran sat on the tattered couch, studiously inspecting the floor and occasionally darting anxious looks at the pair. "It's a fair deal," he replied. "You get the training to be a runner, which can earn you an existence here, and you get half of the profits we make from this."   
  
"By breaking into one of the largest smuggling operations ever seen in the galaxy, lurking around in their private files to find information wanted by another head of a smuggling operation who essentially owns some dusty ball in the Outer Rim, and escaping with the information you want."   
  
He spread his arms wide. "Walk in the park for a Jedi."   
  
"You don't find many parks on Coruscant," she replied.   
  
"Look, in any case, we," he indicated Kieran, who flashed him a look which read that he wanted not to be included, "don't have much of a choice in the matter. We refused, Jabba has us killed. Simply for knowing what's going on. That shipment obviously means a lot to the slug, and he seems to think we can get it for him. However, if we're essentially committing suicide if we think we can make it in and out without getting caught. This is real work, not for amateurs like us."   
  
"I've never done any running for information at all." She moved to the window, her tone of voice the only thing betraying her emotions, and that was intentional. The rogue wanted him to know what she thought of his little proposition. Raven watched the light reflecting on the buildings, trying to ignore the desperation that was radiating from the larger man. He was obviously afraid of the task put before them and probably even more afraid of her own response.   
  
Dane sighed behind her, and she heard him settled next to Kieran. "You're far more capable to pull it off."   
  
Something inside her shifted, making her think of her years of training for the IntCorps. This was, somewhat, the kind of thing she would have done for them, although only blind from the Republic, which didn't like to be reminded how the Jedi got some of their information. However, they had no qualms about using it. It was true though; the chase was her forte.   
  
"Fine. I'll do it." Even as she said the words and felt the flood of relief from the pair through the Force, a thread of doubt crept into the pit of her stomach, doubt of her own ability and skills. Still, at least in this case, she would only be putting herself at risk, no one else. Still, part of her rejoiced at the fact that she was going to be helping someone. If nothing else, it gave her a goal. Something to take her mind off the Temple.   
  
***   
  
Raven was not surprised to discover that, in the end, there was very little the pair could teach her about the profession of running. It reminded her of her IntCorps duties, somewhat the stuff of those terrible holovids that cycled into popularity regularly; an attractive Jedi, in this case female, sneaking around unseen to gather information that would be used in some epic way to save lives or the planet or the Galaxy entire. The only difference was that the vids never made mention of rogues (privately, Raven thought that the markers simply didn't want to think about Jedi who defected) and the remarkable lack of sexual tension, given that Dane was married and Kieran abjectly wary of her former occupation.   
  
A few days after they had asked her, the trio had picked a date for the break in. Kieran had procured her an extensive set of lock picks for the task, as well as some fake identification, which identified her as Ash Suul, a migrate from some moon in the Outer Rim. The large man had taken to calling her Darkfeather; apparently, on some planet where he had resided for some time, there was a bird called the raven with dark, black plumage.   
  
And the days passed, the marked day moving ever closer. Raven was surprised as to how easily she fell into the new routine. She worked out regularly, taking over the small living room as a training ground, her light saber set to a low power. Kieran was a regular visitor, and Dane would be in and out during the day, depending on what kind of odd jobs he could pick on Coruscant. When Raven wasn't exercising, she would wander the entertainment district, slowly learning what life was like beyond the Temple, never failing to be amazed at how removed the life of the Jedi was, given that these were the people they were sworn to protect, ultimately. They were all beings just trying to etch out an existence the best way they knew how.   
  
These beings fascinated the former Jedi. In her past life, as she began to see it, she had been sworn to protect these people and the things that allowed them to live their lives as they chose. But they were admirable in their perseverance and resolve to live well. It was enough to make her wonder what real purpose the Temple served. These people held almost superstitious beliefs about the almighty Jedi. It seemed that the Order served more the Senate than the people of the Republic.   
  
Raven also spent a lot of time observing the rather nondescript building that was Omto's. She mentally marked the regular comings and goings of the beings that filtered through the building, making note of times and entrances used. Probably breaking rules that she didn't really know existed about her current status within the Temple, she used gentle Force projections to make sentients not notice her as she spent hours loitering outside the building. They would never remember her presence or moving past her. To them, it was as if she never existed at all.   
  
Finally the night before her first run was to take place came and found her perched on Dane's couch, her ratiuar in her lap as she carefully restrung and tuned it. Dane sat on the other couch, idly shuffling a deck of sabacc cards he had found somewhere. Kieran was over, pacing nervously in front of the window, periodically stopping to look out of its dusty transparisteel before stalking back and forth again.   
  
"You're making me nervous," the smaller man said finally, tossing his partner a withering glace. "Why don't you sit down and we'll play a round?"   
  
Kieran turned, looking first at Raven complacently working on her instrument before turning to Dane. "I donnae understand how ye can sit there as cold as Hoth when tomorrow might find us all deid."   
  
"Not all of you," Raven replied, looking up, although her hands continued to move methodically. She smiled slightly, one eyebrow climbing her forehead in amusement.   
  
The larger man gave her an exasperated look. "If ye fail, we're as good as deid," he replied.   
  
Raven turned her attention back to string the ratiuar, her thin fingers carefully threading the string onto one of the tuning pegs. "Then I won't fail," she replied simply.   
  
Kieran and Dane exchanged a glance, both slightly unnerved by the note in her voice. It was fairly easy, at least for Dane, to see the woman who had joined their little band as one of them, one of the wayward souls who existed in the galaxy, just trying to make her way through it. But on occasion, such as now, they were reminded all too much of what she had been – and still was – despite her current situation.   
  
She finished her stringing, giving the instrument a quick strum with her fingers. Then, the Jedi stood, setting it aside with a quiet exhalation. "I'll be gone before you're up," she said quietly. "Nothing to tie you to the traveler you kindly sheltered for the last few days. I go in blind and I come out blind. A shadow in and out." She clapped her hands together. "Gentlemen! Relax!"   
  
Dane shrugged. "It's a difficult run."   
  
"I'll take care of it." And with those words, the deal was sealed. Dane didn't have the heart to discuss it further, and Kieran lacked the courage.   
  
Still, Raven was awake late that night, staring at her ceiling as she ran through some calming techniques. It was not impossible, although it wasn't going to be easy. Demian was before her, trustingly, running his katas slowly.   
  
No, failure was not an option. 


	11. A New Mission

_A New Mission_   
  
Dawn was still an hour away when Raven made it to the building adjacent to Omto's building. About halfway up was a catwalk designed to get into the building so that the environmental and water systems could be maintained by the planet without ever actually entering the building. There were doors between, of course, which Raven planned to use. She was maybe one hundred meters below, carefully watching the guard who lazily monitored the catwalk. The Jedi estimated that she had about ten minutes until he disappeared into the building, presumably to fetch himself some caf to make it through the last hour. In the end, it didn't matter to her what he did, just as long as he left.   
  
Raven fingered the trigger to her blaster, which was clutched in her right hand. It was fitted with a piece over the muzzle which had a cord and a clamp on the end. She had to resist the urge to click the safety on and off to pass the long moments. A small knot of concern had settled into her stomach, but it was easy enough for her to ignore.   
  
Finally, the guard seemed to give himself a shake and walk away, his boots clicking metallically on the catwalk as he disappeared from view. Raven exhaled and slowly counted to twenty-five before taking careful aim. She inhaled and fired with the exhale, gratified by the dull thud of the clamp grasping the steel support of the catwalk. Setting her grip, she thumbed the retractor and was lifted from the ground.   
  
A few seconds later, she was at the support. Giving herself a gentle swing, she hooked a leg onto the walking surface and pulled herself up. Then, she detached the clamp and tucked the blaster back into her belt after removing the attachment. She ducked into the first service entrance for the maintenance area.   
  
The maintenance area was a maze of pipes and tunnels, all carrying something important to the building. The hard part would be locating one of the doors that actually opened into the secure part of the building without tripping one of the alarms she assumed were set for such an occurrence.   
  
She moved farther into the area, the rumble of moving air and water masking her footsteps. It didn't take long for the Jedi to find a wall that seemed to stretch infinitely to either side of her, a common wall to the building proper. Arbitrarily, she chose left.   
  
Raven moved along the catwalk, running her hand along the wall, feeling for a door. She was frustrated with the dimness of the area. There were probably lights, but the problem was knowing how to activate them. She traveled a few minutes before a panel lit up beneath her hand.   
  
The rogue paused to inspect the display, which prompted her for an access code. Then, the backlighting flickered off, leaving her in the dark. She grunted thoughtfully to herself, reaching into her flight suit to the belt that was settled tightly onto her hips over her unitard, hidden beneath the suit's folds. From one of the pouches she produced the lock pick set that Kieran had given her. Many of them were traditional picks for old fashioned key locks, but there were three digital picks, more slicers than actual picks.   
  
Raven bit her tongue as she studied the three digital picks, trying to decide which one to use. She selected the medium sized one, estimating that it would fit into the droid port on the display the easiest. The pick slipped right on, colored lights on its own display tracking its progress.   
  
"C'mon…" the rogue murmured to the electronic device. It worked on, flickering gently, completely oblivious to her impatience. With a sigh, Raven calmed herself. Getting excited wouldn't get her any closer to one of the computer terminals on the other side of the wall.   
  
The pick's display flashed yellow, showing her the code that was used to open the door. Then, it went blank, and Raven removed it from the port, replacing it on her belt. She entered the code, and the door slid open with a hiss. The dark-haired woman peered carefully out into the hall, relieved to find it deserted.   
  
_So far, so good,_ she thought to herself as she moved through the doorway. Raven heard it close behind her. She could sense some beings down the hall to her left, some distance away, as well as some of the other sentients on other floors. The rogue had made the assumption that she'd be able to move about freely at least for a while, banking that Omto's organization was large enough that every smuggler wasn't recognizable to his people. Still, she was a little nervous about pressing her luck. She headed to her right down the hall, away from the other beings.   
  
***   
  
There were very few doors in this particular hallway, and Raven began to look for a cross hall, hoping that it might have a door. Finding one, she found doors spaced evenly along the hallway. Every one she had tried was locked, and she could sense no one behind the doors. The rogue searched the floor systematically, finding the same situation in every hall she encountered, discovering that the building was laid out in a huge square with the center broken away into a garden. The walls along the garden were transparisteel, so that Raven could look out into the plants and across to other levels. She could see being moving in the halls there, busily attending to whatever tasks they'd been assigned.   
  
Raven's internal clock told her that too much time had passed, and she was beginning to feel nervous. The woman was confident that it was only a matter of time before someone realized that the maintenance area had been breeched and there was a stranger in their midst.   
  
It was next to a rather lavish staircase that she found another droid port. The port was far too unsheltered for her tastes, but the rogue was getting uncomfortable. Heightening her senses to pick up on anyone before they stumbled onto her, Raven produced her data pad and an adapter and plugged into the network.   
  
Omto was no idiot, as she suspected. There was a security shell on the system, demanding a user name and password of some kind. Raven grunted quietly to herself, mentally running through her limited options.   
  
"He's not going to change."   
  
The voice echoed through the hallway, and Raven suddenly became aware of the fact that two sentients were headed her direction. Swearing quietly to herself in ten different languages, she unplugged her data pad and darted into a cross hall to surreptitiously observe them.   
  
One was a Dug, happily plodding along on what looked like its front legs, the hind ones tucked close to its chest. The other was a species that Raven wasn't familiar with, sporting a ridge around its skull that looked almost like a crown. "He's always going to yell at us for things we can't control. That's why he's the captain," continued the unknown species.   
  
"Then maybe I ought to find myself a new captain," the Dug said haughtily.   
  
The other species just snickered. "Yeah? Where?"   
  
Raven pressed herself against the wall as they walked past. She bit her lip with a realization; the Jedi could easily pick up information from one of them just by pulling a mind trick. Instead, she had another idea, deciding that that would be a last resort. She ruffled her hair, loosing some of it from her ponytail and then began to breathe heavily. "Excuse me!" she cried, jogging from her position in the cross hallway to where the two were passing.   
  
Both looked at her, the Dug somewhat suspicious and the other species merely confused. Raven grinned at them attempting to look sheepish. The expressions on their faces didn't change. She stuck out her hand. "The name's Ash," she beamed, trying to appear as polite as possible, but a little misplaced. "I work for Coruscant Security, 'We keep your unmentionables unmentioned!'"   
  
The other species glanced at his companion before hesitantly taking her hand. "I'm Zip," he replied slowly, "And this is Sinat." Sinat waved one of his hind limbs noncommittally.   
  
"I hate to interrupt you two, but I have a little problem. You see, I'm a migrant from the Outer Rim, trained in debugging security shells. But…. I don't know what I did with the user name and passcode I was given. I know what you're thinking, but please don't tell your boss! If I get fired, I'm in a world of trouble! They may even ship me back! Will one of you get me into the shell? Please? I don't want to go back to Genosis!" Raven pouted, glancing from one to the other in what she hoped was a desperate look.   
  
"I don't know…" Sinat seemed reluctant. Raven watched as the crown on Zip unfurled a little.   
  
"Please? I promise it won't take me but ten minutes after you let me in to debug the system. I do know what I'm doing. I'm qualified!"   
  
"How about an ID?" asked Zip. Raven fumbled inside her flight suit, using her clumsiness to mask the blaster on other implements hidden. Then she produced the card, which simply had her picture, her name, and the general heading of programs specialist. Zip inspected it. "Programs specialist?" he asked. "You a slicer?"   
  
Raven smiled shyly. "Force," she replied, "I'm good at what I do, but not that good." Then she winked. "But I'm working on it." Mentally, she decided that enough was enough. This was worrying her. She gave them a little nudge with the Force, pushing them, although it didn't seem to take much, into accepting her story.   
  
"All right, but make it quick." Sinat said grumpily.   
  
"Thanks a million, I can't ever repay you. I think you just saved my job." She led them back to the droid port and hooked her datapad back in. Zip put in his name and passcode, making Raven look away. A few deft fingerstrokes, and the pad was running a query, although it didn't say what for. It blinked green. Raven murmured to herself, speaking quietly in Ancient Alderaanian for effect. What the pad had come up with was a list of what ships ran with shipments. Not what she wanted. Kieran and Dane had given her the name of the ship, the _Falcon's Dive._ This merely listed it.   
  
"There we go." She clicked a few more buttons, noticing that the pair was rather uninterested, given their earlier reluctance. The datapad began searching. This time, it came up with a current location for the ship. Raven quickly scanned it, but it held no information as to whether it had a cargo or not.   
  
"Uh oh." Zip was glancing down the hallway, and his comment made Raven aware of the click of boots on the tile. The datapad still was hunting. Raven felt a twinge of concern. "It's Two Sticks," Zip hissed to Sinat, who suddenly looked very concerned.   
  
"Who's Two Sticks?" The datapad was still sifting the files. Raven swallowed. Something had to be here!   
  
"He's our boss's second in command. He's called Two Sticks that's what he is; second. Well, that and really thin. But powerful." Raven murmured something in response. Her datapad had found something. The Jedi's eyes widened; it was the log of the _Dive._ Just to make sure, she skimmed the tail end of it. Sure enough, it made mention of Jabba's shipment, dropped off somewhere on the borders of the Inner and Outer Rims, presumably for more profit.   
  
Raven yanked the connection out. "That's it!" she announced cheerfully. But Zip and Sinat had vacated.   
  
Instead, there was a human standing in front of her, his head slightly tipped to the side, the lightbanks catching the red in his hair, making it look like it was on fire. "That's what?"   
  
***   
  
"I… I…" Raven backed away, letting fear show on her face. She gestured with the datapad. "I work for Coruscant Security, 'We keep your…" Two Sticks narrowed his eyes, and Raven broke up, pretty confident that that explanation was going to get her no where. It was then she had an idea what was just crazy enough to work. With a sigh, she tucked the datapad in her suit and produced her blaster, which she handed to Two Sticks.   
  
"All right, you got me."   
  
Two Sticks looked curiously the blaster. "Got you?" He stuck it in his belt.   
  
Raven shrugged. "I'm Ash Suul. I'm a part of your training, you might say. Onto hired me to keep you on your toes. From his praise of you, I'm rather disappointed I got in and into your system. I expected more."   
  
Two Sticks's face darkened. "A training exercise? What's Onto pulling now?"   
  
"Your outside security is rather disappointing, and that security shell? Pretty easy to break… I'm surprised you haven't lost something important yet."   
  
"You shut up!" He demanded, grabbing her arm. "I think you and I need to take a little walk."   
  
"What's this?" Raven yanked her arm back away from him. "Don't touch me."   
  
"You're coming with me." He grabbed her arm again. Waiting for this, the former Jedi tromped on his instep then elbowed him in the gut. She heard his breath leave through his mouth, and Two Sticks had to bend over, wheezing. She thought about using the Force to get away, or make sure that he was incapacitated, but that felt a little out of bounds for her Jedi ethics.   
  
"I don't think so." She turned to leave, but he grabbed her boot, tripping Raven neatly. She rolled onto her back, looking between her legs to see him crouched on his hands and knees, her ankle locked in the grasp of his hands.   
  
"Going somewhere?" He yanked her forward quickly, sliding her on the tile. Raven caught his stomach with her free knee, maneuvering it to his chest and leveling his body over hers, her calf positioned on his breastbone. With a little help from the Force, he landed heavily beyond her head, something making a crack. The former Jedi scrambled to her feet, calling her blaster to her hand.   
  
Raven clicked off the safety and leveled it at him. With her other hand, she steadied the blaster and switched it from kill to stun, hiding that motion in her steadying one. Raven was ready to leave. "As a matter of fact…" Raven trailed off and fired.   
  
He immediately went slack. Raven double-checked to see she had her datapad, then she sprinted away, looking for the hallway with the door she'd come in. Once she found the door, however, it was locked again.   
  
Swearing quietly Raven grabbed the digital lockpick and hooked it to the lock. She watched the hallway nervously as she waited. After what seemed like an eternity, the pick clicked. Raven grabbed the pick and slipped inside, the door sliding closed behind her.   
  
***   
  
Raven found the noise of the maintenance area comforting after the silence of the hallways. She was still a little jumpy from her encounter with Two Sticks, but as she walked, she shook her arms and moved a little more with each step to get rid of the energy. Her mind was already running through calming techniques that were second nature to her from her training, releasing energy into the Force and tapping into it for a center.   
  
As she walked, the rogue checked her chrono; it was a little after midday. Raven had taken much longer than she had expected. She wound her way through the maintenance area, and easily got down from the catwalk with a Force assisted jump.   
  
With her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jumpsuit, Raven made her way quietly through the walkways of the district, absorbed in her own thoughts, although she carried over her a Force haze, something that would prevent the people around her from remembering she ever existed.   
  
One person, however, was not fooled but the manipulation. The shorter redhead followed a short distance away, her dark outer cloak rustling as she moved. She darted through the other people with ease, as though it were a well-practiced maneuver. Raven only became aware of her when she was close enough to touch the Rogue. Raven turned, stopping to one side of the walkway, to look at Daré.;   
  
"I've not come to try to bring you back." The statement was just as it was, no guilt or sorrow evident in her tone. Daré tucked her hands into her sleeves in a familiar gesture. "I trust that you will do as you must. You've always been good at that, even when it hasn't been what you wanted."   
  
Raven shrugged, a little unnerved by her master's appearance. "Then why are you here?"   
  
Daré shook her head slightly, her braided hair catching some of the midday light. "I have a bond with you, padawan, wherever you may go. I guess I wanted to tell you that the hardest thing you will face is forgiving yourself. But you have my blessing, no matter how far you wander from your home."   
  
"I've lost the right to call anywhere my home," Raven said quietly, "especially the Temple."   
  
The Jedi Master resettled her hands in her sleeves, and Raven could almost see pain in her blue eyes. "It will be hardest to forgive yourself," she repeated. "You think that by leaving the Temple, you won't be responsible for others, that you won't be able to hurt others again. But I know you, Raven. You will help others because you can. You've been trained a Jedi, and that will never leave you."   
  
The rogue shifted nervously. "Master, I need to go."   
  
Daré nodded once. "Of course."   
  
The small master watched her walk away. "May the Force be will you always," she said finally, softly, the words nestled in a sigh, intoning the phrase traditionally said when a new Knight leaves on his first journey alone. 


	12. Epilogue: Homecoming

_Homecoming_   
  
Dane stood in the small port, a rather ramshackle affair that looked as though it would be shaken apart at the landing and take-offs of the ships which frequented it. His cloak was damp, a sign of the failed weather controllers on the capital planet. Still, his face was alight with anticipation and excitement.   
  
A small class-B starfreighter eased into the port, gently docking next to the ledge, hovering as its engines' whine slowed and the only sound in the air was the gently hiss of the thrusters that kept the freighter in place. Dane moved forward, pressing his hands against the observation glass.   
  
A stream of people exited the freighter, each carrying his own belongings. The group looked tired and worn from its travels, and they all moved slowly, shuffling into a line so that the customs officers could quarantine the group, making sure there weren't any critically ill that would infect Coruscant. It was only a secondary thought as to what the migrants might be carrying with them.   
  
A blond woman appeared, looking more tired than most of the other passengers. She had a bundle in a sling, which she kept close to her chest with one arm. On her back was a rucksack that looked not quite fully of something pliable, like clothing or bedding. In the other arm, a small child was curled, although the only thing that could be seen of him was the small body pressed into the woman's, his face hidden in her threadbare cloak. She moved slowly, with a weariness that spoke of betrayal to her few years.   
  
"Ava," Dane breathed softly, his breath forming a cloud against the glass.   
  
The woman with the two children moved into the line, getting lost from Dane's view midst the others who were waiting their turn. He still watched closely, though, waiting for any glance that he might get of his Ava, who was carrying both of his children away from harm.   
  
Some distance away, another damp, cloaked figure stood, taking great care not to be noticed. Raven's hood was down, for she would have been very noticeable with it up inside the small port, but something about her withdrew into the shadows. Dane didn't know she had followed him; in fact, he didn't know that she had been shadowing him for a number of weeks now, ever since Omto had discovered exactly which of Jabba's runners had managed to slip in and slip out right under his nose. Raven had been acting as a bodyguard for him, despite his ignorance, and putting out feelings to find her own, unrelated running job when Dane wasn't out in Coruscant.   
  
The rogue Jedi watched as he pressed himself further against the glass, presumably watching as the line of passengers dwindled. Some had already filtered into the waiting area and were reuniting themselves with their loved ones, some tearfully, some not. Other migrants had drifted away alone, and Raven felt a kind of kinship with them.   
  
The small blond woman appeared at the entrance into the waiting area, and Raven watched as her eyes searched the crowd. There were creases on her face, which spoke of work and worry. Dane saw her first, struggling to get to her in the crowd. He pulled her into his arms, ruffling the hair of the small boy and taking care not to crush the bundle slung across her chest. The blond woman tried to hand the boy to Dane, but he wouldn't go, just burying his head deeper against his mother. Instead, she slipped the contents of the bundle, what Raven could now see was just a babe wrapped in more worn blankets, out of the sling and gently passed it to Dane. Even the dark-haired Jedi could see the tears on his face, as well as the ones on hers. Raven felt a painful tug inside her chest, and there was a lump in the Jedi's throat. _This is why I am what I am,_ she thought to herself.   
  
Dane took the rucksack from the woman as well as the sling, so that all she had to carry was the little boy. Raven watched as he put his arm around the small woman protectively, pulling her close, presumably to whisper something in her ear. She leaned against him, sheltering herself in his touch, and they both moved away, towards the exit of the port.   
  
Raven slipped towards the glass, seeing what route they would have to leave. The small family passed her without incident, or even recognition, and Raven waited a moment for them to go out through the small, sliding doors of the port. Then, after a slow count to ten, Raven began to follow leisurely, to make sure no harm came to the family on its way home. 


End file.
